Episode 1: Mandalorian Outcast
by Robert Preston Matthews
Summary: Strength is Life, for only the strong have the right to rule. Honor, is life. For without honor, one might as well be dead. Loyalty is life: For without one's clan, one has no purpose. Death, is life. One should die as they have lived. By standing here you have excepted this oath, to complete your Verd'gotan and become a Mandalorian-Ja'Hailir, Mandalorian Commando Cadre
1. Chapter 1 Life

Star Wars was my first love. In fact, it was one of the first things I remember my dad and I ever bonding over. It taught me so much or at least fleshed out what my parents tried to teach me about right and wrong. It helped define what made heroes and villains; and the importance of standing up for what's right even against overwhelming odds...and giant super weapons. It also taught me how 'Hope' can spring from the most random places(Luke Skywalker), that the ability to do what's right is in all of us(Han Solo), and that just because you were born a princess doesn't mean you can't kick a little butt(Leia, you will always be royalty. RIP Carrie Fisher) Not to mention that with only having 5 lines a character can be immortalized by simply wearing the coolest suit of armor in the galaxy and inspiring an entire culture and language(the Fetts). Dialogue is good but shear Presence is better. (Oya Mando'ade)

As the years went by that love of a galaxy far far away waxed and waned but always remained. Almost everything I did or became interested in can be traced back to that first moment the Star Wars text scrolled across the screen. I was hooked and thus doomed myself to a lifetime of geekdom. Back in the 90s in the beautiful state of Missouri being a sci-fi fan wasn't a very attractive trait. I certainly didn't help my case by preferring crafts and watching movies over sports and hunting (two big mainstays in my family and community) or that as I got older I supplemented Star Wars with shows like Stargate SG1, Andromeda, Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, etc...(Never could get into Star Trek though, sorry Spock) Needless to say grade school sucked, that was until Pokémon finally became popular, then Toonami, and eventually Yugi-oh. Suddenly it was ok to be a geek, but since I didn't ride the mainstream geek train I was once again relegated to the outskirts, least I wasn't alone by then. (Shout out to Samantha Montana, Alex Shepard, Corky Weegrum, Elisa Belcher, and Dallas Terril for always having my back)

And then I turned 17. Finally my 5ft even lanky self-filled out at 5'9'' since I started doing JROTC and Track and Field. I was still a geek and a devout Christian though and the hierarchies of High School were not about to let me forget it. So rather than sinking myself into student loan debt like everyone else who went to college, I joined the Army, served 4 years active (with 1 deployment to Iraq in that time) I did 2 years in the GA Nat. Guard. By then I was much more confident in myself and what my passions were. I'd supplemented my fandom with fabrication, prop-making, cosplay, and miniature painting (and randomly doomsday prepping (thank you Jericho!))

Now I've come full circle, with the release of Clone Wars, Rebels, Rogue One, and the Force Awakens my Star Wars love has rekindled. I created a story for my cosplay character Jarek Orion (because Mandalorians are so cool, ref. Republic Commandos by Karen Travis) who was also the character I role-played in the original Star Wars RPG game and later on in the Fantasy Flights RPG game. So like many D&D and Pathfinder players, I decided to put pen to paper and chronicle Jarek's story drawing inspiration from my own life experiences and his own in-game experiences. It has taken a number of years with one or two ret-cons to his character and story arc before it finally fleshed itself out.

I don't want to do a character Bio simply because it would reveal too much of his past which is intentionally kept shrouded. I will say inspiration was drawn from Aloy (Horizon: Zero Dawn) Ryu (Ninja Assassin) and Oliver Queen (Arrow) as well as a few others. I also tried to avoid staging any of his adventures on worlds/environs seen in the films. Why you may ask? Because the Star Wars universe is HUGE! There are sooo many more adventures, species, cultures, and locales to be had! However, being a fan I appreciate anchoring any Star Wars story to the familiar at first which is why Jarek's adult story picks up on Tatooine approximately five years after the Rise of the Empire. Episode 1 deals with Jarek's Origin story, legitimizing his skills in a way to prove his talents were earned. Episode 2 onward is known as the 'Edge of the Empire' story arc which will deal with Jarek's adventures both legal and illegal.

...so without further ado...let the fanfiction begin.

Disclaimer: I do not own star wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

 **Star Wars**

 **Episode 1: Mandalorian Outcast**

 **Chapter One: Life**

 **Planet Kalevala; Mandalorian Space:**

Jarek knelt, balancing lightly on the balls of his feet, keeping as much of the berry bush between himself and the group of children beyond. There were six of them; three boys and three girls. They were all seven cycles old. The same age he was. Unlike him, they all wore clean cut well maintained blue or white tunics trimmed in grey. The girl's braids were adorned with teal blue ribbons, while the boys kept their hair short.

Looking down at himself Jarek felt self-conscious in his tattered leather tunic and breeches. They were handmade for him by his father, Myler. Though he'd done the best he could, the man was no tailor. His talents lay in the art of the hunt rather than in needle and thread. Though the clothes were sturdy and still fit, they were stained and weather worn from hard use. While his hair was cropped short like the other boys it was fairly unkempt due to the shortage of water at their dwelling.

Not for the first time he felt a stab of envy that he had not a mother to fuss over his appearance.

Over the years he'd seen the other children of the village interact with their mothers, albeit from afar. The women would tsk and tut over the smallest things and attempt to preen them on the spot. More often than not the children would complain, refuse, and try to squirm away.

They had no idea how lucky they were.

That afternoon the children were accompanied by only one of the mothers; the rest have taken the time to complete other errands or tasks while she babysat. The mothers often did things on a rotation each afternoon. While the rest went about their day the Mother-on-duty would take the younglings out to do one activety or another. One day it was fishing, another day it was a walking through the glade picking herbs, or washing/dying a batch of clothes.

Very few of the children ever complained. Young Mandalorian children were not averse to labor. It was a part of their daily lives. If they weren't gathering food they'd be learning a craft, or skill to pass the time until they were old enough to apprentice to a working adult. Every Mandalorian in the clan had a purpose and every purpose benefited the clan as a whole. Jarek wondered what it would be like to be a part of that whole, and feel like he had a purpose more than just surviving day to day with his father.

"Jarek!" came the deep voice of Myler, his father. He must've noticed he'd wandered off while he spoke to a fellow outcast. Took him long enough. The call was some distance away, but his sharp ears could easily discern it from overture of nature. Jarek may have been a child but he could be very sneaky when he wanted. Ignoring Myler's call, Jarek turned back towards the children.

This afternoon the young mother was having the children gather berries from the bushes outside the settlement. While the children got to run off some energy on a sunny day, the mother got a large batch of berries for later. Everyone contributed to the whole.

One of the children, a boy with tousled blond hair, approached the young mother and held up two small handfuls of berries. The mother smiled and slid the berries into a container. "Oh, that is a lot of berries you picked Gaegen. _Kandosii_!" She patted him on the shoulder ushering him back out to gather more. Jarek could see his proud smirk all the way from his hiding spot.

The smile the woman had given the young boy made Jarek's heartache. It ached as it always did when he saw the mothers cooing over the other children. Ached with longing for even a hint of that love and admiration. Ached for something to fill the hole in his life.

Myler was a fantastic parent, a fantastic _buir_ , no question. He was strong, brave, and smart, but emotionally he was...distant. He never spoke of his dead wife, nor of how he had come to care for Jarek. But aside from acknowledging he was not Jarek's biological father, he made it abundantly clear that Jarek was _his_ son and he cared for him. Myler was not free with his feelings but Jarek had always known them. Love of that nature was beyond words. Still, it would be pleasant to hear them from the lips of a more maternal figure.

Decision made, Jarek slunk back behind the bush. He took his time and plucked none but the very freshest and plumpest of berries. The smell was tantalizing enough to make his mouth water but he refused to eat even one. Taking a breath he strode boldly out into the open.

For a moment no one took notice of him, so set were they towards their task. By the time he neared the mother, whose back was to him only a single young girl had looked up and seen him. She had dark skin and seemed more curious about his presence then alarmed. The mother was not so pleasant. The moment she'd turned her attention from another child she visibly jerked in alarm, her eyes widening in surprise.

Jarek gulped down his nerves and held out the berries, easily more than the amount Gaegen had given earlier. Determined, he stood straight and tried his best to beam proudly. He expected to hear the same praise he'd heard before.

It didn't come.

The mother blinked once before intentionally averting her gaze. Jarek's heart sank a little. Steeling himself, Jarek stepped forward offering his berries once more. The woman clutched the storage container closer as if fearing he'd contaminate the lot with his own; as if they weren't good enough to be with the rest. His heart plummeted. It would've hurt less had she slapped him across the face.

The mother stepped around him calling out, "Come _ad'ikas_ , there's a better patch near the creek." She ushered the other younglings away, none of whom paid him any mind except the blonde boy named Gaegen. The boy glared at Jarek as if angered at his intrusion, or at his attempt to upstage him. The mother hastily guided Gaegen along casting Jarek only a scathing glance.

Jarek's vision blurred even as he continued to hold out the berries. He must've presented a pitiful site and yet he couldn't seem to bring himself to move.

As the tears began to well up he noticed that the dark-skinned girl had lagged behind. She shyly approached him, offering up an empathetic smile. Jarek tried to return it, feeling a slight warmth as his heart seemed to stop breaking. Her smile grew warmer as she held out her hands to accept the berries. The gesture was a small one but for a moment Jarek felt gratitude. Holding out the berries, he began to deposit them in her upturned palms.

"Jilo! Come away from there!" the mother's voice cracked like a whip causing both children to jump. The mother had returned and roughly steered the girl, Jilo, away from Jarek. The look the mother gave him was one of utter disgust. Jilo began to protest but the mother shushed her. "You will ignore him," she hissed, "He is _Dar'Manda_!"

She seemed to spit the last word as if it were a curse. Jarek had one last fleeting glance of the girl's apologetic expression before the group moved off. He stood there feeling a whirl of emotion only a few of which his young mind could identify. Shock, sadness, confusion, and yes...anger. He felt anger most of all.

Jarek gripped the berries in each hand so tightly he felt them pulp. The juices dripped from between his fingers. What could have been some of the most delicious berries were now a sticky mess. His heart hammered in his chest, each beat matching the pulse in his ears. The tears streamed down his cheeks even as he gritted his teeth to keep from crying out.

Throwing the ruined berries, to the ground, Jarek turned and ran. He sprinted back into the woods, back to the shadows that seemed to always welcome him like a cold embrace. iT was a place where there was no shame in being and Outcast, because there was noone there to call him one.

"Jarek!" Somewhere in the distance, he heard his father call out to him. He ignored it, sprinting headlong into the shade of the canopy.

The sheer unfairness of it all welled within him. Questions beat against his skull harder than the passing branches. Why could he not be praised? What made his longing so different than the other children? Did he not deserve a mother's love as well? Why was he a _Dar'Manda_? Why was he an Outcast!?

His mind was so awash in his self-pity that his sadness mixed with anger blinded him to the forest around him. So much so that he didn't watch where he was going.

One moment Jarek was running utter abandon and the very next...he was falling through space. He cried out in surprise, his anger replaced by panic. He flailed his arms and legs as the world came back into focus, realizing with great fear he had run right into one of the many stone cisterns that dotted the landscape. Cisterns his father had always warned him to stay clear of.

Jarek was only briefly aware of the grey stone walls of the shaft before his small body hit the side of the tunnel. Instinctively he tried to reach out in order to slow or even stop his descent, but his grip found no purchase. Jarek tumbled and rolled down the tunnel grunting and gasping in pain as he plummeted.

He had been tumbling for what seemed light an eternity when once more he felt the ground fall away. Jarek cried out one last time before falling into darkness.

Jarek had been lucky. At the bottom of these cisterns was water gathered by many years of rainfall and runoff. He was luckier still that it was cold. The shock of the changing temperature brought him back to fall consciousness. Cold pressure enveloped his whole body. He couldn't breathe! His lungs ached for air! Kicking out Jarek propelled himself up...and out of the water. Very briefly he hung above the surface of the pool in a cascade of shimmering diamond droplets. Then he came crashing back down on the rocky shore.

The air left his lungs and he had to take several deep breaths before he could breathe properly. Once that was done he took a quick mental account of his body, just as Myler had taught him. Aside from a burning pain on his left forearm, nothing felt broken. The burning came from a reddening cut that ran from his elbow up to his wrist. He hissed in pain as the dank cold air came into contact with it. Fortunately, the wound wasn't serious. He forced himself to ignore it.

On the other hand, his situation was of greater concern.

Jarek stood shakily. A few sharp pangs let him know that other than a few bruises he'd have later, he'd be ok. Above him, out over the pool of water, he saw the light of the crevice that he'd fallen through. Hundreds of feet up and well beyond his reach. Cupping his hands around his mouth, Jarek shouted, "Father! Faaather!" Pausing he listened but heard nothing. He was either too deep or Myler was too far to hear.

Perfect.

Jarek sighed, angrier at himself now than at the situation that had put him there. He was sure to get an earful from Myler...if he ever saw him again-

- _When_ he saw him again! Jarek couldn't afford to think otherwise. He had to get out. The many cisterns and the caves that connected them were extensive. One of them had to lead back to the surface.

The light from the overhead opening reflected off the water. It helped illuminate the cave just enough to make a route ahead. Squaring his shoulders, a gesture he'd seen Myler do whenever he was about to set himself towards a task, Jarek set forth.

The cave route connected to another cistern. That cistern connected to another route whoch lead to another cistern. The water level varied from nonexistent to waist level. Jarek only slowed to allow his eyesight to adjust to the changing light and be sure of his footing. The threat of "Cold-Shock" entered his mind but he had no way to stay warm other than to keep moving. His anger had long since been replaced by another more base need. The need to survive.

In one tunnel he cringed as a swarm of leathery wings and scaly bodies the size of his hand dropped from the ceiling and flew past. The startled flock of "Krat" was harmless, eaters of fungus and bugs. Their sudden screeching presence had surprised him, but it also encouraged him.

Krats only nested in caverns near the surface so as to fly out at dusk to prey on the swarms of insects that basked in the fading light. Another of Myler's lessons put to good use.

Jarek followed the swarm, crouching through a smaller opening and entered a larger chamber. His heart sank a little when he saw the flock spiraling up and out of the mouth of a cave hundred lengths above his head. Jarek sighed in frustration and proceeded into the chamber hoping to find yet another exit.

He hadn't moved a few steps when his keen young eyes began to pick out certain details amongst the growth of fungus, lichen, and erosion. What he originally mistook as random rock formations were, in fact. Pillars and archways designed to support the cave ceiling. He wasn't in a cave after all, but rather an ancient room carved into the rock by sentient beings.

It was common knowledge amongst the Mandalorians that they were not the first to settle Kalevala. Its surface was dotted with the ruins of a civilization lost to the annals of time. Some had even theorized the planets native species, the Kroot, were the descendants of that civilization. It mattered little, but still, the warriors and Hunters of the clans gave the ruins a wide birth mainly due to their instability.

Jarek marveled at the structure. He'd heard Myler and the others speak of such places scattered across the valley and beyond, but he'd never seen one himself. Myler had preached that such places were forbidden and cursed by the spirits of the dead.

With respect to his adoptive father, Jarek didn't believe the stories of ghosts. Even here in the supposed home of those spirits he still didn't. In fact, he felt an unfamiliar sensation. It was a warmth that spread around his shoulders and pressed in upon his soul. The feeling akin to a welcoming embrace. Like what he'd imagined from a mother.

Stepping further in he noticed the crumbled forms of statues and masonry that were barely recognizable. The room had to be thousands of cycles old. However, one aspect of it was newer then than the rest.

"Is that...a dead person?" he whispered aloud, fear etching its way into his mind.

In the middle of the room directly below the cavern opening curled in a fetal position lay a corpse. The light from the afternoon sun illuminated the body in stark contrast to the darkness around it. Jarek's first reflex was to give _it_ a wide birth and continue on his way, but for some unknown reason, his instincts carried him directly towards the macabre site.

As he drew near the body details began to manifest themselves. First; that it was wrapped in a faded and weather-worn brown robe. The robe was so overgrown by moss to the point it was difficult to tell where it ended and the garment began. Second; that even though the flesh had long since melted away, the skeleton beneath was clearly alien. Horns curved downward from either side of its head; the tip ending just below its chin. Jarek recognized the species but the name escaped him.

Third; it clutched something to its chest with skeletal hands. Jarek couldn't tell what it was but its metallic surface glinted in the light. The moment the reflected light caught his attention the young boy felt a chill run up his spine and down to his fingertips. A light breeze seemed to whisper in his ear, beckoning him nearer.

He complied.

Jarek slowly crept forward until he was kneeling next to the body. A closer inspection also revealed that both of its legs were broken and not as a result of the passing of time. Jarek glanced upward at the opening above and the green foliage beyond. It wasn't hard to surmise that, like Jarek, he had lost his way and fallen into the chamber. Unfortunately, unlike Jarek, he didn't have a pool of water to break his fall.

The empty eye sockets seemed to plead with him while also echoing with a lonely sorrow. Whoever this being had been he had died here, alone and in pain. The result of one careless misstep.

In more ways than one Jarek sympathized with him.

As if expecting him, the bones and sinew that had held the skeletal hands in place for so many years finally gave way. The hand fell forward as if freely offering its contents to its long-awaited recipient. The object was a dark blue cube trimmed in silver; it seemed to glow with a faint inner light.

Mezmurized, Jarek reached forward. Ever so gently he removed it from the alien's hand.

 _He was running! Legs pumping! Heart hammering in his chest! Fear raced through his veins!_

 _ **There is no emotion...there is only Peace**_

 _He was falling! Hand scrabbled for a grip but found none! Down he went into the void!_

 _ **There is no Ignorance...only Knowledge**_

 _Pain coursed through his body! His legs were immobile and yet even breath caused shattered bone to grate against torn muscle!_

 _ **There is no passion...only serenity**_

 _The Holocron! Where was it?! There within reach! He clutched it tight to his breast! Such a little thing but it meant so much! The last vestige of better days._

 _ **There is no Chaos...only Harmony**_

 _Sorrow mixed with the deepest parts of grief swirled in his soul! The loss of much more than a loved one wracked his heart! The loss of a way of life, as well as a life never lived! Of a love, he never got to share. Of the mother, he never knew._

 _ **There is no death...**_

 _The pain of his shattered legs was dull now. Fever and chills had replaced them. Hunger and thirst scraped at his throat and stomach for days, but even that was fading. The encroaching night was upon him. The sun passed into shadow one last time._

 _ **...there is only the Force...**_

 _No more pain...no more sorrow...the end of his path approached...the guiding light of oblivion beckoned him. Invisible hands and wings lifted him up and away. At last...he was at peace..._

 _...and he died..._

Jarek fell on his back, gasping for air. The cube landed on the moss between him and the corpse. Feeling moisture on his face, he reached up and touched it. It wasn't water. They were tears. Closing his eyes, Jarek tried to make sense of the images that passed across his vision and the wealth of emotion that accompanied them, but he was only seven cycles old. Many of the things he had seen - was seeing - and the feelings were as alien as the body before him.

Sitting up Jarek knelt next to the dead man. He stared into the hollow openings where eyes had once been. Of all the things he had felt and seen, that sense of loneliness and the yearning for the mother he would never know...that was the strongest feeling. It was something he could empathize with. Though they were separated by the expanse of time and divide between species, they had _that_ in common.

The cube lay dormant, its inner light now snuffed out. He hesitated before picking it up, expecting to feel the same rush of sensations as before, but felt nothing.

 _It has served its purpose._

The thought was surreal and he wasn't sure where it came from, but it rang of truth. He had no idea what the device was but it seemed to house aspects of the-Ikotachi that's what it was-the Ikotachi's memories. From what he'd seen Jarek knew that he'd witnessed the beings death.

Jarek shut his eyes more and tried to focus.

 _Breathe_ he thought. A few deep breathes later and Jarek saw something or rather...remembered something.

 _There is no emotion...there is only Peace_

 _There is no Ignorance...there is only Knowledge_

 _There is no Passion...there is only Serenity_

 _There is no Chaos...there is only Harmony_

 _There is no Death...there is only the Force_

The mantra seemed to repeat endlessly in his mind and course through every cell in his body. It was a part of him. It was his life. Or rather the life of the dead Ikotachi.

He pondered on the implications but pushed them to the back of his mind. The time for... _meditation_...would come later, right then he had to figure out a way to escape the cavern.

"Jarek!"

The sound of his name caused Jarek to leap to his feet. The word reverberated off of the walls making it hard to pinpoint the origin. Standing he looked around but aside from the way he came in he couldn't see another opening.

"Jarek! Can you hear me?"

That was when he finally recognized the voice as that of his adoptive father; Myler. His _Buir_. With the second shout, Jarek was able to determine the origin of his voice. Jarek looked up at the opening. While he couldn't see him the boy knew Myler was close.

Taking a deep breath Jarek cupped his hands around his mouth. "Myler!" he called out. Cocking his head to the side Jarek listened. Only a few heartbeats went by before he got a response.

"Jarek I hear you! Keep shouting!"

Heart hammering with nervous excitement, Jarek cupped his hands once more and yelled, "Myler! Myler down here!"

"I see the opening!" he replied his voice nearby. Within seconds Jarek saw the all too familiar rugged face peak over the edge. Jarek couldn't help but crow in excitement. The anxiety of the last hour draining away with just the sheer joy of seeing his father again. Myler's look of relief seemed to mirror his own. "Jarek, thank the ancestors. _Ad'ika_ , are you hurt?" He asked, a combination of relief and concern lacing his tone.

"No, just," he glanced around at the corpse and the surrounding cave, "Just get me out of here."

"Ok wait one moment," Myler's voice shifted back to its no-nonsense, all business tone. He disappeared briefly to uncoil the loop of rope he always kept on his person. "I'm dropping you a line." As he spoke a long thin cable fell, its end making a small loop at the ground at Jarek's feet. "Fix a hoop knot just as I showed you."

Jarek did just that, his tiny hands moving with a deftness only months of practice could produce. Before he stepped into the hoop knot he looked down at the corpse. Despite the grim circumstances of their meeting or the tragic event that lead to it being there in the first place, Jarek felt like the Ikotochi was finally at peace. His gaze fell on the cube. He hesitated only for a moment before grabbing it and placing it in his tunic. Stepping into the hoop Jarek tugged twice on the rope.

"Hold on tight, _ad'ika_ ," Myler called down right before pulling up on the rope. Jarek gave the cavern one more fleeting glance before he was bathed in sunlight. In a matter of minutes Myler, his close-cropped brown hair drenched in sweat hauled him up over the cave lip. The moment he was clear of the opening the older Mandalorian pulled Jarek into a tight embrace.

The act of affection briefly shocked the boy before he returned it. The hug was tight but warm and within his father arms, Jarek felt that nothing could hurt him, not even the scorn of the mother. For a man not given to spontaneous acts of emotion, Myler was a great hugger. Stepping back and after composing himself Myler asked, "Nothing broken?"

"No _Buir_ ," Jarek replied after giving himself another mental as well as a physical once over.

Myler seemed to sigh in relief before his tone became as icy as the blue of his eyes. "What were you thinking of wandering off like that? And going into the caves! You know they're dangerous! You could've been seriously hurt or even killed!"

Jarek stood and took the verbal onslaught. He felt guilty for making his father worry and even more so for putting them both in danger. Even knowing he deserved it still didn't help make it any easier.

"What were you doing, taking off like that?" he demanded.

Jarek didn't answer right away. Myler's stare told him he wouldn't move until he did. Figuring honesty to be the best thing, he replied with eyes cast downward, "I wanted to see the other children...and the mothers."

Something in Myler's cold gaze thawed and he seemed to deflate a bit, his anger subsiding. "I see...and?"

Jarek felt the emotions of earlier returned. They still chaffed on his raw nerves but he managed to keep from, crying. "They...ignored me...as if I wasn't even there."

Myler sighed once more and placed his hand on Jarek's shoulder. "Because we are outcast my _cyr'ika_. _Dar'Manda_. They must ignore us. It's Clan Law," he tilted his son's face up to look at him, "but I know that doesn't make it any easier." Jarek wanted to demand why when a glint of metal caught Myler's attention. "What is that you have there?"

Jarek mentally stumbled at the sudden shift in subject. He'd almost forgotten what he had stuffed in his tunic only mere moments ago. For some reason, he hesitated. A part of him wanted to guard his recently acquired treasure. Perhaps sell it later or to barter passage off-world or even purchase a way into the Clan. The options seemed endless to his young mind. He was also curious to see if he could unlock more of its secrets if there were any more to be had.

The lack of an aforementioned light seemed to indicate otherwise as well as an inner feeling that he'd have more luck beating it with a rock. Another part of him felt wrong for coveting it. It was after all taken from a dead sentient who's entire being revolved around compassion and charity.

 _It has served its purpose,_ the voice whispered in the back of his mind once more. Jarek felt his decision was made and reached into his tunic. He withdrew the cube and deposited it into Myler's outstretched hand.

The large warrior's eyes widened at the sight of it. He rotated it to observe every angle before running his gloved fingers over the golden edges and across it dark blue faces. After a few minutes of examining the object he spoke.

"You found this in the cave?" He asked, possibly wondering if there was more to the story.

Knowing it would've done little good to lie, Jarek nodded. "On a dead Ikotochi. He must have fallen in years ago. He was clutching it when he finally died."

"Was there anything else?"

Jarek shook his head. "No, _My'Buir_. Other than bones and what remained of his clothes, there was nothing." He admitted to himself that it hadn't occurred to him to search the rest of the corpse. In hindsight, he didn't relish the idea. Not that it crept him out, but rather it simply felt...wrong.

"Hmm," Myler hummed as he mused over the artifact glancing between it, the hole, and back.

After a minute of silence broken only by the sounds of nature, Jarek finally had to ask, "Do you know what it is?" Myler shook his head but said nothing. "Should we keep it?" Myler shrugged.

"Artifacts of the old world could be dangerous," Jarek felt his heart sink and he could just visualize Myler tossing the cube back in, being such a pragmatic man and all. "But they can also be quite valuable." Jarek perked up at the words, and the opportunistic upturn in his voice.

Myler stood unclipping his helmet- _buc'ey_ -from his belt. He placed the cube in his belt pouch before donning the helmet. Like the various plates of his armored vest, the helmet was brown with streaks of green and black painted across it. Here and there the glint of the metal shown through where it had been dinged and scratched. The black "T" shaped visor completely obscured Myler's face. In full _Beskar'gam_ , blaster pistol on his hip, the older Mandalorian was just impressive as he was intimidating.

He glanced down saying, "We'll see about swapping it at the next supply run." Jarek couldn't help but shiver inwardly at the anonymous black visor. "If you're to become a hunter you'll need proper gear."

Jarek sputtered at the words and nearly tripped over himself as Myler started walking in the direction of their home. Had he heard him right? Did he mean to help him construct his very own Iron Skin? His own _Beskar'gam_?

"...and if you insist on running about in the wilds, you'd better learn how to survive in them," Myler answered his son's unasked question. Most of the children in the village wouldn't begin their warrior training until they were eight or nine cycles old. It seemed his antics accelerated Myler's timetable.

Jarek glanced back at the hole, now barely indistinguishable from the surrounding foliage. He thought of the lone Ikotochi, and how so long ago, like him, it had stumbled into the cavern. Although he had died in agony, his actions had reached across many years to affect Jarek's own life...for the better. He was going to be a hunter...a warrior.

 _Thank you_ , he thought before turning and following his father.

A breeze whispered through the trees. It tickled the back of his neck causing him to shiver. Somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind he felt more than heard the reply.

 _May the Force be with you._


	2. Chapter 2 First Steps

Disclaimer: I do not own star wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

 **Episode 1: Mandalorian Outcast**

 **Chapter Two: First Steps**

 **Planet Kalevala: Mandalorian Space:**

The next morning Jarek was up early. After donning his clothing and taking care of any other necessities he wandered outside of their simple dwelling. It was a two-bedroom structure with a high steeple roof to help shed the winter's snow. The walls were surrounded by an earth berm which helped insulate the interior. Encompassing the yard and house was a sturdy palisade meant to dissuade any curious scavangers. Those that weren't smart enough to take the hint were introduced to Myler's long rifle and found themselves contributing to the larder.

Their home was situated above the valley floor. It's location putting them out of the migratory paths of the herds of Striders, Broadheads, Chargers, and their accompanying predators. Despite its isolation, their home offered a stunning view of the sunrise. It spread out across the length of the valley bathing the forests and plains in a sheet of golden light.

While Myler worked inside to prepare for the coming day, Jarek set about completing his chores in record time. First, he fetched water from the well and fed their small flock of Kunna, a squat half meter tall, two-legged critter, which provided most of their protein. Next, he checked the hydroponics garden making sure the machinery was still running and maintaining their vegetable and fruit-bearing plants. The plants weren't ready to be picked but he always made sure. Jarek had learned early that a balanced diet was the difference between growing strong and growing weak.

Once he was finished he sat and waited patiently, or as patiently as a seven cycle old could; tapping his foot eagerly and wondering what lesson Myler would teach him. Would it be combat or survival? He also wondered about his armor. About how he would craft it one day, and how it would look. Most Mandalorians decorated and camouflaged their armor based on their personality, lineage, or chosen profession. Myler being a hunter preferred a practical design. In the few instances, Jarek had glimpsed the clan warriors, mostly from afar. He had seen many variants in colors and designs. Very literally no two Mandalorians were alike.

At that point Myler exited the house, interrupting his thoughts. He was in full armor, helmet clipped to his belt, rifle slung across his back, pistol holstered on his hip. In addition to his normal gear, he carried a wrapped bundle under one arm. Jarek stood, barely keeping his excitement in check.

"We're headed down into the valley. Follow," he ordered and headed for the palisade's only gate. Jarek followed close behind. They traveled for several minutes. The sun had fully cleared the horizon before they stopped in a small clearing.

Myler unrolled the bundle revealing a small blaster carbine. Jarek recognized it as the one Myler had taught him how to shoot with. The other two objects were new to him. One was a foot long sword with one curved blade and a short diamond shaped cross guard. The other was a palm length knife with a similarly diamond shaped doubled edged blade.

"Take your rifle," Myler stated and Jarek obliged, making sure the barrel was pointed in a safe direction while simultaneously checking the weapon was loaded with a full charge. It was. Then he looked back at the edged weapons and noticed Myler carried similar types on his own person.

Myler gripped the short sword in his free hand. "This is called a _Beskad_." He hefted and twisted it giving Jarek a good look at the blade, hilt, and pommel. "In the old days, this was a warrior's primary weapon. They had to get in close to take care of their foe. Now many don't use them, and keep them more as decoration." He gave his son a hard look. "This is not a decoration, nor is it a toy." Jarek nodded in understanding. "This blade is a hunter's tool in the bush. Clearing trees and taking down prey." He gave it a quick swipe and took a sizable chunk from the end of a wooden log.

Jarek gulped at the lethality but maintained his bearing.

Sliding the weapon into a scabbard he helped sling it across Jarek's back. Next, he held up the small knife. "This is a _kal_. A fighting knife." He flipped it end over end in his hand in an elaborate show of dexterity and skill that surprised and impressed the young boy. "It is your tool in all things. Preparing game, bush craft, to settling disputes with the neighbors." Myler started to hand it to him but pulled it back at the last second. At Jarek's confused expression he asked, "What is this first and foremost?"

"A tool, not a toy," Jarek answered and Myler handed him the sheathed blade which Jarek promptly attached to his belt. He gave his son a very serious look and made sure his tone emphasized the seriousness of his words. "The wilds can be a dangerous place. More so the further you get from civilized areas."

"I know," Jarek agreed knowing full well the dangers.

"You're still scratched up and sore from that fall yesterday, yes?" Myler asked and Jarek nodded reluctantly. "Let's start the lesson there." He indicated a plant with a brown stem, heart-shaped leaves, and deep red berries. "That is called salve brush, it alleviates pain and fever when eaten and soothes sore muscles when applied to the skin." He pointed up toward the sky. "Beyond our world, many sentients use the modern Bacta Patches, or Kolto to heal wounds. These are common but there will be times when you won't have those luxuries." He gestured to the plant once more.

Jarek, already familiar with the plant plucked the berries. The first batch he crushed into an oily pulp before rubbing the paste on his arm and thigh where it still hurt from his tumble. Next, he took a few berries and ate them. They were bitter with a dry aftertaste but he swallowed them regardless.

"It may taste bad but plants like those and alien variants could save your life." Jarek nodded trying not to grimace at the taste. He took the water canister Myler offered. One swig was enough to clear his palette. "Wherever you go you should learn what is useful and what isn't; plants, beasts, or otherwise."

Without another word, Myler turned and walked into the brush placing his helmet on his head. Jarek followed close behind. The trek took them further and further from their home and down into the valley proper, but not toward the main settlement of _Kart'a'Buir_. This was an area Jarek wasn't familiar with.

"Where are we father?" he asked softly conscious of the distant sounds of wildlife.

"This part of the valley is known as the Embrace," he answered just as quietly, "The Orion Clan hunt here and allow few others. The Outcasts are the rare exception by order of the Clan Chief."

This puzzled Jarek, who only ever experianced scorn from the clansmen. "Why?" he asked curiously, "If we are _Dar'Manda_ why let us hunt their land?"

"Because we help keep the more dangerous beasts away from the village," Myler replied without emotion, "The Chief also believed it dishonorable to allow Outcast children to be deprived of food."

This further confused Jarek. This act of concern for his, as well as other Outcast children's wellbeing, was a direct contradiction to the Mandalorian belief that only the strong survived. Then that thought also contradicted the idea that family, clan, and children were the most important things a Mandalorian could have.

 _Do not deal in absolutes..._ his mind whispered to him.

"Further downriver we'll find a herd of striders," Myler's words broke his reverie and he had to hurry to catch up as the larger man trotted down a trail. "I will teach you how to hunt them."

A surge of excitement shot through Jarek, along with a bit of apprehension. "Are they dangerous?" he couldn't help but ask. Jarek had always been too young for Myler to take him on a hunt. Now he had his chance to learn.

"All beasts can be dangerous," Myler answered gravely, and Jarek thought he was also applying the statement to people as well. "You must learn to anticipate this," he went on, "and respect their power." He looked down at him, "But I will be beside you." Though he couldn't see his gaze Jarek felt its reassurance.

After a bit more hiking Myler suddenly held up a hand and they both came to a stop. Jarek listened but heard and saw nothing.

"Drop," Myler hissed and pulled Jarek down to a crouch. "Stay quiet," he ordered in a very low tone, "and follow me to the tall grass." Without looking back at him, Myler slipped into a patch of tall red stalks. Jarek followed right after making sure to keep his father within eyesight. After a moment, Myler pointed ahead of them on the trail. "There you see?"

Several yards away, Jarek spotted four gray skinned reptilian creatures trotting on four clawed feet. A series of quills sprouted out of the skin in a main starting at the base of their skull and ending at their shoulders. Deep red eyes sat above long bird-like snouts. Within the maw were two rows of very sharp looking teeth. Despite their obviously predatory aspect the creatures were barely five feet in length and their shoulder was just a bit taller than Jarek.

"It's a little one," Jarek stated, but immediately regretted it. Myler's earlier words about respecting all beast's power and their potential to become violent rang in his skull.

"Those are kroot hounds," Myler stated flatly giving him a chastising glare, "They're fast and deadly in a pack. A skilled hunter could kill them, but a smart hunter doesn't take the risk." He held his son's gaze a moment longer driving the lesson home. "We'll have to sneak around them," he said with a brief gesture, "Follow."

For several long minutes that felt like hours, they crept through the grass, making sure to keep as much distance between them and the nearest hound. Several times a Hound would raise its head and sniff the air causing them to stop. Myler would rest a hand on the handle of his pistol, but then the beast would lower its head and continue down the path.

Once Myler was sure they were far enough out of sound and scent range, they broke from cover and continued on their way. Jarek released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Myler took a brief moment to show him some moss that they could wipe on their clothes to help conceal their scent. He admitted to washing their clothes in it regularly.

The path wound steadily down into the valley well north of the settlement. They were nearing a stream crossing when Jarek noticed movement in the distance. Looking carefully he spotted a figure running and jumping along a narrow cliff face. Even from far away it was easy to see he wore armor like his father and yet the weight didn't seem to hamper him. He stepped from rocky outcropping to rocky outcropping with such ease and dexterity that he appeared to defy gravity.

Jarek pointed at the figure. "Look, father, a hunter."

Myler stopped and looked around. Jarek heard him grumble something that sounded like _di'kutla,_ a really stupid fool. He turned and began walking again. "Ignore him, boy. If he wants to risk his neck that's his own foolishness."

About that time the young hunter stopped. Clinging precariously to a ledge he looked directly at them. To Jarek's surprise, the young Mandalorian hung by a single hand and waved before carrying on his course.

Excited, Jarek pointed this out. " _Buir_ , he waved at us!"

Myler paused to look back just in time to see the hunter disappear over the ledge into the foliage. "I _said_ ignore him, Jarek," he stated before trudging on, " _He_ is of the Clan. He would do well to ignore us."

Jarek caught up with him. "Maybe he doesn't like the Clan?" he suggested. The idea that there might be those within the clan who would have anything to do with Outcasts filled him with an unexpected hope. Thinking back to the young girl in the berry patch, gave the feeling merit.

Myler growled, deep in his thoughts before saying, "Then he is a fool." Though his tone was low there was no mistaking the hard edge to his words.

Not for the first time, Jarek wondered why his father had been exiled from the clan. For all intents and purposes, he carried himself like the ideal Mandalorian. Jarek could be biased but of the various Outcasts he'd met over the years, some were angry bordering on savage, while others were depressing and just struggling to make do. Very few still adhered to the _Resol'Nar_ , the Six Actions; Wearing _beskar'gam_ , Speak _Mando'a_ , defending oneself and family, raising one's children as Mandalorians, Contributing to the clan's welfare, and when called upon to rally to Mand'alor's call.

Hardly any Outcasts even still wore their armor.

Myler had always been a skilled hunter and a powerful warrior, and he'd always carried himself with dignity and pride despite his status as an Outcast. He'd raised Jarek as best a single parent could, teaching him what it meant to be Mandalorian even if he'd never be a part of the clan. He'd made vindications about his willingness to assist the clan where he could, and if the call to arms ever arrived he'd jump at the chance.

There were rare occasions, like now, when his emotions would slip through and tortured soul within would appear. Here was a man who defined himself by his culture and yet he was forced to live apart from it. It angered him that anyone would ever be so foolish to willingly separate themselves from Clan and family.

Myler had made it abundantly clear on more than one occasion that his only desire outside of taking care of Jarek was to see his son one day join the clan and be a part of a larger family. For Jarek, it would be the first time he'd be accepted by anyone other than Myler and other Outcasts. After receiving the scorn from the mother he wasn't sure if _he_ would ever accept _them._ Much less be accepted.

As they approached the stream crossing, Jarek was almost shocked to see a herd of striders milling about grazing and drinking. Like the hounds, they were reptilian quadrupeds with grey skin, beak-like snouts, red eyes, and quills down the neck to the shoulders. These were taller and broader with thick legs. Even at a glance, Jarek found it all too easy to respect _their_ power.

Just then Myler stood tall, swung his _Beskad_ in the air and yelled, "HAH! Get!" The dozen or so striders looked up in alarm before turning and galloping off. A pair of them seemed to lag behind, one with a slight hitch in its step. Soon they were all out of sight.

Confused Jarek nudged his father's hip to get his attention. "Why'd you scare them off?"

Myler looked down at him and shrugged, "To show you that many herd beasts can be easily startled. Plus I wasn't expecting to come across them so soon. It's always better to hunt your prey with stealth." Jarek nodded seeing his point but still couldn't help but feel annoyed. He was eager to hunt.

Sensing his anxiousness, Myler knelt down to his level and pointed after the herd. "Tell me _ad'ika_ , did you notice anything about the herd. Anything that stood out?"

Jarek thought and recalled the last two striders he'd seen trailing the herd. "Yes one of them had been injured and was slow to catch up to the rest. And another wouldn't leave it behind."

Myler nodded, "Good. Well done." Jarek beamed with pride as Myler continued, "Predators will often pick off the injured or sickly members of a herd. This helps the herd to stay strong and weed out the weak. But like Chargers, and Broadheads a Strider's mate will always stay by its side till its death. They are a stubborn lot." He stood and they trotted after the herd. "A trait to be admired I think," he added in an undertone.

Their pursuit took them further and further north until the valley opened up revealing stretches of grasslands interspersed with clumps of trees. Streams and rivers cut through the green sheet like blue ribbons. The herd of striders milled nearby. To Jarek's astonishment, he also saw herds of broadheads, grazers, chargers and many more species. He was sure packs of hounds were about but they were clever to keep to the shadows. Jarek even spied a trio of Tallnecks in the distance. Large flat snouts turned this way and that keeping an eye out for sustenance and predators. One of the largest plant eaters, there was only one other creature who actively hunted them.

The Greater Knarloc. Jarek had only ever heard stories about them. Large bipedal carnivores with massive jaws and long thick tails, but no forelimbs to speak of. Only the most skilled and craziest hunters ever pursued them.

Myler came to a halt and knelt in the tall grass several yards from the nearest strider. Jarek followed suit. They both unslung their rifles and slowly approached their prey. They crept up on its blind side just behinds its left shoulder. Only a few yards aware, Myler held up a hand and signaled for him to wait, he did. The older warrior slung his rifle and drew his _beskad_. The older man inched closer and closer to the Strider. As he drew near, Jarek noticed that it was the wounded one from earlier. Just like other predators did they were fulfilling their role by culling the weak from the herd.

Just mere feet away, Myler sprung forward and stabbed in a single ergonomic motion. The point of the blade went up under the left foreleg straight into the body cavity of the strider. The Strider only had time to make a shuddering groan, its heart and lungs punctured, before sinking to the ground.

Before Jarek could process what had taken place, Myler ripped the blade free, stood atop his kill and bellowed. It was a deep resonating roar, that Jarek felt in his soul. It was the primal sound of a predator claiming its kill.

The strider's mate stamped its feet nearby and tossed its head angrily. Myler stood his ground, hand on the grip of his pistol. The mate spun in agitated circles before running off to rejoin the rest of the retreating herd. A pack of hounds also took notice but followed the herd rather than attack.

Myler stepped down from atop his kill, his chest heaving as he came down from his adrenaline high. He gestured and Jarek approached, eye's wide in wonder. Myler cleaned the blood from the _beskad_ and sheathed it. "A hunter must always claim his kill, lest others try and take advantage. He must also strike hard and fast and make the kill clean. No beast or man should be made to suffer." He stared down at Jarek, his words steady and firm. "That is what separates us; Hunters from savages."

Once Jarek nodded in understanding, they set about processing the game. Myler had thought to bring a large knapsack and after skinning the beast he set about carving strips and chunks of the strider's dense muscle using his _kal_. He walked Jarek through the whole process from checking to make sure the meat wasn't diseased, to properly carving it, and removing harmful organs like the digestive and waste systems. In less than an hour, the knapsack was full and the carcass thoroughly butchered.

"The scavengers and the land will appreciate the offering," Myler stated as he cleaned the _kal_ and sheathed it. He slung the sack over his shoulders, "Come let us-"

"Help!"

The cry stopped them both cold. They listened for a moment before hearing it again carried on the wind.

"Help me!"

"Someone's in trouble!" Jarek exclaimed his heart hammering in his chest.

"Follow!" Myler ordered and took off in the direction of the scream, Jarek right on his heels. Despite the extra one hundred pounds of raw meat on his shoulders, Myler moved with incredible speed. It was all Jarek could do to keep up.

"Help! Please!" the voice cried out again. It was close. They had retraced the trail back up into the Embrace before splitting off the main route. They ended up crouching on a ridge that overlooked a wide gully. Across the gully clinging to the rock face several hundred feet above the ground was the young hunter they'd seen earlier.

" _Di'kut'la_ ," Myler mumbled but his head twisted from side to side looking for a way to lend him aid. Unfortunately, they weren't alone. Loitering about the gully below was another herd of striders, smaller than the one before. They were accompanied by a pack of Kroot Hounds, possibly the same ones they'd avoided earlier. The striders were oblivious to the hunter's cries, but the hounds seemed to be drawn to it. They cast about the edges of the gully unsure as to its origin.

The Hunter also seemed to realize what his calls had done and focused more on hanging on for dear life. Reaching above his head he attempted to lever himself up over the ledge but the rock gave way causing him to swing by his one remaining hand. Just as his finger curled around a handhold.

Jarek was about to ask his father what they should do, but before could say anything the hunter's grip failed. Jarek watched helplessly as the hunter bounced and tumbled down the rock face in a way that reminded him of his own painful plummet. Each time the hunter struck a rock it slowed his decent before he hit the ground below. His scream and the sound of him impacting the ground below was audible enough to carry all the way across the gully to their position. It also alerted the herd of striders and the pack of Hounds. The small predators growled and began stalking through the tall grass, unsure where the crash had come from but knowing it was close. This encroachment by the small predators caused the striders to stamp nervously, but not quite enough to stampede.

Jarek could barely make out the young hunter amongst the roots of a fallen tree. He seemed winded and hurt but still alive.

" _Buir_ , he's still breathing. We have to help." Jarek pleaded in a low tone aware that any loud sound could easily attract the pack of hounds.

Myler shushed him, pulling him back down below the ridge. "No, _ad'ika_ ," at Jarek's confused look he went on to explain. "There's not enough cover. If I go down there, I will be seen. The hounds will attack and the herd will panic and trample us." He glanced back and sighed angrily at the situation. "Soon the hounds will find him and tear him apart. If I shoot into them the herd will still panic and stampede, killing him." The older hunter clenched his fists and Jarek could sense his anger at knowing he had to do something yet unable to do so. He was just too large of a target.

The boy was of the clan, and Myler had just told him that even as Outcasts they still had a duty to their people.

Jarek knew what he had to do.

Before Myler could look back around, Jarek scurried to the edge of the cliff. He heard his father hiss in surprise and felt his fingers grasp at him. Jarek leaped feeling the blaster carbine slip off his shoulder into Myler's grip before landing soundlessly in a patch of long grass. He knew his father was spitting mad and could visualize him unslinging his rifle and preparing to jump down after him.

Jarek signaled back up to him to stay and then held a finger to his lips. Remarkably Myler did as he bade him. Checking to make sure the hounds were unaware of him, Jarek slowly crept through the long grass. The green stalks would never have fully concealed the larger warrior, but for a small child, they were the perfect cover.

If Jarek could remember any of Myler's colorful swear words he'd surely be using them right now. Of all the stupid things he'd done in his short life, this was certainly the worst.

Jarek wasn't sure why he was sticking his neck out for the foolish young man. He was of the clan and would've probably ignored him out of spite at any other time. Ancestors, he didn't even know the boy's name. However, some part of him told him...no demanded...that he needed to help. To guard and protect the helpless.

Hopefully, Myler would understand his irrational mindset because he sure as _osik_ didn't.

Having only to stop a couple of times to avoid running into a curious hound, Jarek eventually made his way to the side of the injured hunter. He was attempting to crawl to the shelter of the tree without attracting attention, but his left leg wasn't working properly. His right arm also hung limply at his side. At the rate he was going the hounds would find him in a matter of minutes.

Acting on instinct with Myler's lessons echoing in his mind, Jarek palmed a small rock and hurled it to the far side of the gully. It clattered off another larger rock attracting the attention of the hounds and sending the striders into a nervous frenzy; stamping their feet, tossing their heads and snorting loudly. They didn't like a pack of predators being so close and even less at all the strange noises echoing about their gully.

Jarek moved forward and gripped the boy under his left arm, startling him. Jarek shushed him with a gesture before dragging him towards the fallen tree. The boy was nearly twice Jarek's height but lean. The _beskar'gam,_ having taken the brunt of the fall no doubt saving the boy's life, added a significant amount of weight slowing their progress. Jarek was small, but a lifetime of hard living had made his tiny frame strong. He heaved with all his might and with the hunter's assistance managed to nestle beneath the trunk of the fallen tree.

That was the moment Myler had been waiting for. Standing from his hiding spot the older Mandalorian shouted at the top of his lungs and began firing his blaster into the herd of Striders, intentionally missing and impacting the earth.

That was the last straw for the already nervous herbivores. Fear gripped them and as one they turned and charged toward the open end of the gulley. Unfortunately for the Kroot hounds, they were between them and the exit.

The first hound fell beneath the feet of the herd. The only sounds were a small squeal and the crunch of bones. The rest of the pack wailed in terror and bolted, an angry herd of prey hot on their heels.

Jarek and the hunter huddled in the hollow beneath the trunk until the sounds of rolling thunder faded. Slowly Jarek crawled out and checked to see if the coast was clear. All he saw was his father hurrying down towards him, carbine slung across his shoulder. He couldn't see his face, but braced himself for the tongue lashing he knew was coming.

It didn't.

Myler merely took a deep breath and placed a hand on his shoulder...and nodded. In the world of his father that one gesture was about as good as being held aloft on his shoulders to cheers and adoration.

Just as quickly the moment past. Myler moved to help the boy out from under the tree. Even as the boy grunted, groaned, and swore every time his leg and arm were jostled, Myler remained silent. He laid the boy down and set to work checking his injuries.

"What hurts?" he asked simply.

The boy grunted in pain once before answering, "Right shoulder. Left thigh." Jarek looked on as Myler checked first the leg and moved up to the shoulder, prodding gently here and there. Jarek now saw a perfect example of learning field medicine. Noticing him, the young hunter looked up at Jarek. "Thank you little one," he murmured in a pained tone, "Ancestors bless your courage. Just as I hope they curse my idiocy."

Myler grumbled, and Jarek knew he was thinking something along the lines of, _as well they should._

Out loud he said, "Leg's fine, just a bone bruise." Myler suddenly yanked down on the boy's arm causing him to hiss in a breath and then sigh as Jarek heard a click and pop. "Arm was dislocated," he stated as he placed it across the boy's chest and secured it with a length of rope in a temporary sling.

The hunter was breathing heavy but appeared to be grateful despite the slew of swear words he uttered under his breath. Helping him to his feet, Myler guided the boy to sit on the top of the fallen tree that had been their refuge only mere moment before. In a move that surprised Myler, the young man clasped his forearm and said, "Bless you warrior. You raised your son well."

Before either of them could reply a voice rang out from the open end of the gully.

"Tebb! Tebb! Where are you?"

Waving his good arm the boy responded, "Tekka! Over here!"

Moments later two men and a woman, all in full armor and armed, jogged up. The tallest of the three wore white armor with blue accents on a brown vest; the leader. He stepped ahead. Tebb, the young injured hunter stood and limped towards him.

"Tekka," he gestured towards Myler who had moved in front of Jarek, "I fell. They saved me."

Much to Jarek's surprise, the larger man smacked him on the back of the head. In his injured state, Tebb nearly fell to the ground, but somehow managed to keep his balance.

"Seal your lips, _chakaar_!" snapped the large man, anger evident in his voice. "You're lucky we're kin else I'd have left you to the hounds!"

"Leave him alone!"

The shout startled the group who all looked in Jarek's direction. He had stepped from behind Myler and was standing, fists clenched, ready to defend the injured youth. The white armored warrior, Tekka, growled menacingly but turned back towards the young man.

"I fell, Tekka," Tebb tried to explain, "hurt my arm and leg. The boy pulled me to safety. He" pointed the Myler, "drove off the hounds and set my shoulder. _They_ saved me."

"I said shut it," Tekka yelled looking as if he was going to raise his hand to the boy again, but restrained himself. "Bad enough you _needed_ to be rescued, but to allow these... _outcasts_ to help you!?" He spat the word 'outcast' as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. Jarek was reminded uncomfortably of the mother from the day before. Tekka continued, "The stench of this will linger for sure!"

"But, they saved my life!" Tebb bravely attempted to explain again even as the two other warriors moved to help him stand. He pointed directly at Jarek, " _He_ saved my life!"

"They are _Dar'Manda_!" He shouted turning on the pair. Myler pulled Jarek behind him while simultaneously placing a hand on the handle of his pistol. Tekka didn't seem to care as he ranted, jabbing a finger at Jarek, "And _he_ is a motherless cur!"

Myler's pistol was out and leveled at the man faster than anyone could blink. No one moved. No one spoke. The one warrior who wasn't supporting Tebb had his weapon in hand but hadn't raised it. She seemed unsure if the action would cause Tekka to have his face redecorated.

For his part, the larger Mandalorian didn't flinch or show any sign of being afraid. He merely stared directly at Myler, one emotionless visor into another. Myler said nothing, but his stance and posture spoke volumes. _Never...insult...my son._ The blaster barreled inches from Tekka's forehead seemed to emphasize that point.

In a show of good sense, Tekka gestured to his companions and together they took a few steps back before turning and walking away. Tebb, still being supported by the male warrior, glanced back and started to speak but was cut off by Tekka smacking his head once more.

Myler waited a half moment longer till they were out of sight before holstering his weapon and stepping away from Jarek. "He shouldn't have spoken to us," he stated softly still looking after the group, "He broke clan law."

His tone had an edge of disappointment; either at the boy's mistake or how the situation had devolved, Jarek couldn't tell. He was too distracted. Jarek had put his life on the line to save that boy. He did his duty to the clan, and what was his reward?

To be called ' _A motherless curr!'_

Scorned by a mother and now cursed by a warrior. And for what? What was his crime that deserved such animosity?

"We should not linger here," Myler said softly. "Let us return home."

Jarek needed no other encouragement. He wanted to be as far from the gully, from the valley, and from the clan as he could. He wanted the day to be over.

"I know the way!" he yelled out more harshly then he intended. Picking up his carbine he set off back towards their home. Myler followed close behind. He seemed to sense his son's growing frustration and so kept his distance to give him time to vent.

Jarek did indeed know the way home. Especially once he found the trail. He'd hiked the area many times, memorizing the key landmarks that could help direct him back to the dwelling. Even distracted, his feet moved of their own accord leading him back without conscious thought.

Along the way, he fumed over the situation with the boy Tebb. He'd been grateful for their help, not once caring whether they were _Dar'Manda_ or not. And for his caring heart, the other Warrior, Tekka, had hit him. If that was the cost of being a member of the clan; to be punished if one didn't properly scorn Outcasts, then he wanted nothing to do with the Clan.

Unfortunately, Jarek anger blinded him to the world around him. He hadn't noticed he'd outpaced his father, or that the trail had led him close to the settlement.

One moment Jarek was lost in thought, the next a sharp pain erupted above his left eye. Staggering back a step, he hissed in pain. Lifting a hand he felt his head and winced. His finger came away bloody. Looking down passed his hand he noticed the small rock dotted with red settling on the ground near his feet.

Someone had thrown a rock at him!

Confused, in pain, and very angry, Jarek cast his gaze about spotting four children from the village. They stood atop a hill just off the path. He recognized the tousled blond hair of the one called Gaegen easily enough. He was clutching another rock in his hand and was grinning with sadistic glee.

"Go away, _Dar'Manda_!" he yelled and threw the second stone. Jarek saw the rock arch up and down spinning end over end as if in slow motion. It was easy to calculate its speed and decent. With reflexes that surprised Gaegan, the other kids, and especially himself, he caught the rock.

The impact shot up his hand and arm, but his anger dissipated it. Jarek glared up at the blond boy. The emotions of the hunt and the day previous welled up all at once, seeking some form of justification for his pain.

Gaegen glared back picked up another rock and prepared to launch it. Jarek acted without thinking. Winding up, he took a step and let his projectile loose. The stone streaked across the opening and nailed his target.

The rock that Gaegen had been about to throw, shot out of his hand as Jarek's struck it in a puff of dust, narrowly missing his fingers. The boy looked at his now empty hand with no small amount of shock. The other kids also looked on in wide-eyed wonder, glancing between their leader and the Outcast boy unsure of what to do.

Gaegen seemed to shake off his surprise long enough to grab another rock. He was preparing to throw, but a dark-skinned girl stepped forward out of nowhere and slapped it out of his hand. It was the same one from the berry patch.

"That's enough, Gaegen," Jilo declared matching his look of outrage with a cold glare of her own. "Don't be mean!" She held his gaze just long enough for him to be cowed. Turning he fled back towards the settlement. The rest of the kids followed swiftly behind, eager to get out of range. The girl was the last to leave, she looked down at Jarek and seemed to offer an apologetic smile before waving and heading home herself.

Now alone, and coming down from the excitement, Jarek started to really feel the stinging and throbbing on his head. He hissed and moaned as he presses his hand to the wound just as Myler arrived.

"Jarek?" If he had seen the event that had just transpired he gave no indication. He knelt down and looked at him, noting the blood, "You're hurt." he reached into his utility belt and pulled out some Salvebrush wrapped in a bit of cloth. Pushing away his son's hand he began dabbing at the wound.

"Why?" Jarek asked, but Myler shushed him gently as he worked. Jarek looked directly at him, ignoring the intimidating visor. "Why am I an Outcast?"

Myler paused in mid-application of the salve. " _Ad'ika_...this is not the time."

"Who was my mother?"

"Jarek, I've told you before I don't know who your birth mother is? You were just a newborn when the Clan Chief brought you to me."

"So the Chief," Jarek stated eyes wide, "Chief Teersa? She knows?"

Myler looked like he wanted to take back the words, but couldn't. He stood and began to walk away. "It's not so simple," he stated.

Jarek wasn't having it and quickly stepped in his path. "But she knows?" he asked. He'd rarely asked about his birth mother because up until that point it hadn't mattered. Now he felt a sudden urged to learn and discover the truth.

"Jarek...we are, _Dar'Manda_ ," Myler sighed trying to step around his son and continue heading home, "Even if she wanted to, we cannot speak to her."

Once more Jarek intercepted him. "How do I make her tell me?"

"The Chief?" Myler sighed in exasperation, "...there is a way, perhaps-"

"So tell me!" he pleaded.

"It…would be dangerous-"

"How?"

"It would take years of training."

"I don't care," Jarek grabbed Myler's hand and stared up at him, "How do I do it! Tell me!"

Myler sighed and removed his helmet and stared down at him with silvery blue eyes. His deep voice echoed the seriousness of the matter. "If you want to be able to speak to the chief you must be of the clan, there is only one way for you to do that."

"What way?" Jarek demanded.

"The _Verd'goten_ ," he stated. Myler knelt down and looked directly into Jarek's eyes and explained, "The clan's rite of passage, held every year. Those that pass become members of the clan. It is open to all including children of the Outcasts. To the victor's though, the Chief grants a boon."

"A boon?" he questioned.

"Yes...whatever the winner wants. But," Myler held up a cautionary finger, "That privilege comes with a cost, Jarek."

Jarek was too excited to care about the cost. Here was a chance-a sliver of hope-that he might get the answers he so desperately sought. He stepped back away from Myler. "I'll do it," he declared standing tall and squaring his shoulders. "Whatever it takes. I'll win the _Verd'goten_."

Myler looked at him with a mixture of pride, exasperation, and a hint of frustration, but he sighed in resignation and stood. "I see...we best get started then. Your training will be hard and it will take years. But in the end one way or another," he placed a hand on Jarek's tiny shoulder, "You will be a warrior of the clan."

"Start training?" Jarek's boundless childlike energy spilled over, "Yes! Follow!" and he took off at a sprint towards home.


	3. Chapter 3 Cutting Teeth

Disclaimer: I do not own star wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

 **Episode 1: Mandalorian Outcast**

 **Chapter 3: Cutting Teeth**

 **Planet Kalevala: Mandalorian Space:** **Four Cycles Later:**

Jarek sat by the fire in front of the dwelling. He'd made it himself, just as he'd been taught; bow-drill, some tender, a little friction and he had a blaze. Myler had taught him many things in the last few cycles. Every time he went out on a hunt, Jarek had joined him, learning the art of tracking and stalking prey. He'd memorized the landscape of the valley, as well as the myriad of useful plants and minerals that existed therein. He'd learned of all the species of herd beasts and predators along with their strengths and weaknesses. When they weren't hunting or gathering they sparred with everything from blades to fists. Naturally, Myler was the victor given his size, skill, and strength, but that never stopped Jarek from trying to win.

"It's not the size of the beast in the fight. It's the size of the fight in the beast." Myler had told him once and the words had stuck.

Myler had also shown him every conceivable means of surviving on his own; keeping warm in the cold; cool in the heat; how to fashion tools, weapons, and traps from his surroundings. Most importantly how to fashion his armor as well. Every day there was a new lesson to learn, and there was always another lesson.

In that time they'd actively avoided the clan, choosing to interact only with other outsiders. The only time they did, involved a wordless exchange between Myler and a tradesman in order to sell the Cube Jarek discovered. Despite the lack of verbal exchange the two managed to find an agreeable price; several pounds of _beskar_ iron in exchange for the cube.

Myler explained the iron would be used to fashion his own _beskar'gam_ one day but not until he had fully grown. It did little good to waste the finite amount of ore before he had finished maturing. It was a frustrating dilemma but he agreed in the end before refocusing on his training.

Now he was just over eleven cycles old. Though all knees and elbows, Jarek had grown several inches. The hard life of surviving in the wild had caused in lean muscle to develop.

Sitting patiently by the fire he finished honing the edge of his _kal before_ testing it. It had seen much use in carving up many of Myler's kills and many more uses as a tool in the bush. Myler had taken him through dozens of drills to familiarize him with the use of the blade in close quarters. What he'd learned was that he never wanted to be that close to an enemy. If he ever did he'd be ready.

Though their interaction with the rest of the clan was limited to the one trade exchange, Jarek had on occasion snuck off to spy on _Kart'buir_. Like before he tracked the children and mothers as they went about their day. His excuse was that it gave him an opportunity to refine his stealth skills. In reality, it was the closest he could get to a real mother figuratively and literally. Whenever the mother spoke to a child he pretended it was he who was hearing the words, and when a child replied to the mother it was he who spoke. It wasn't much but in a small way it was a balm on his aching, yearning heart.

Jarek also watched Jilo. The dark-skinned girl had grown as well. Like him she had grown taller and long-limbed. She had a generous spirit and bore a maternal grace. He'd seen her admonish the other children just as the mothers would've done and it made him smile. Jarek had even gone as far as to let her see him on occasion, and every time she'd smile and wave.

" _Ad'ika_!"

Thoroughly distracted Jarek almost jumped when Myler's voice rang out from within the dwelling. He leaped to his feet, sheathing his knife and jogged into the house. Myler was in full armor, helmet beneath his arm. He was dressed for a hunt. Jarek swallowed his frustration and prepared himself for another day of stalking and herding prey while his father made the kill. It wasn't glorious but he knew it was necessary.

In his focus, he almost missed Myler's next words.

"It's time you showed me what you have learned," he said tossing him his carbine and Jarek caught it. It took him a full second to process what his father had said and by then the older Mandalorian was already headed to the door. "I am hungry," he stated flatly gesturing out towards the wilds. He put his helmet on and looked down at his son. "Feed us."

Excitement coursed through Jarek as he slung his weapon and dashed out into the cool morning air, his father right behind him. He slowed just long enough to look back and ask, " _Buir_ , what're we hunting?"

Myler kept his gaze ahead and answered in a flat tone, " _You_ are hunting a Grazer."

Jarek pictured the creature in his mind. At its shoulder, it was as tall as a strider but with a longer neck and lean legs perfect for bounding strides. Adorning its head would be a pair of antlers perfect for gorging assaulting predators. They normally travel in small family groups; a couple of bucks surrounded by many females.

They followed the trail out of the dwelling and when they came to the fork Jarek asked, "Which way?"

"Your hunt," Myler stated his tone flat, "You tell me."

The boy paused and thought for a bit. At that time of year, the beasts would be coming into their winter weight as they thickened to adapt to the decreasing temperatures. They would also be moving up out of the valley to find better grazing.

"South?" he suggested glancing up and down each path.

He felt his father stare at him. "Is that a question?" he asked.

Jarek mentally chastised himself. This was a test. His first real test and he was already acting like a fledgling hunter, which he was most certainly not. "South," he declared confidently and headed in that direction.

The further they traveled the denser the forest became and he forced himself to slow and take in his surroundings. Myler's many lessons ran through his mind and he had to force himself to breathe and calm down in order to focus. _There is no chaos only harmony_ , he thought to himself. As he moved down the path he could sense his father right behind him. Watching him. He would not fail.

Moments later Jarek saw the first sign.

"Look. Tracks," he stated in a low tone. He paused and knelt examining the prints. The snow and dirt beneath them were recently churned; no more than a few minutes old. "They're fresh." Myler nodded and Jarek followed the direction of the prints, "This way."

Jarek took off at a low crouch keeping his eyes ahead at the tracks, following the beasts long loping strides through the brush. From the style of prints, he determined that every so often the creature would come to a halt. Wherever it did he found signs of grazing before it leaped off again. The longer he tracked the fresher the prints became and soon he would gain sight of it.

Suddenly the Grazer in question stood up and looked directly at Jarek who skidded to a halt. The creature must've doubled back on its trail. Jarek would've shot it right then and there but it galloped off in a spray of snow.

"Found it!" he declared dryly, angry that his prey had taken him by surprise and set off in pursuit.

"Slow down _ad'ika_ ," Myler ordered.

Jarek dropped from a run to a steady walk at his father's words. "Sorry," he apologized. He'd let his eagerness get the better of him.

"You must think. Not simply react," Myler counseled in a soft tone, "Be calm and plan."

Jarek sighed in exasperation but nodded just the same. He wasn't used to leading the hunt. If he was expected to lead any more he had to remember Myler's instruction and bring down his prey just as he was taught.

They continued to follow the grazer's trail. Its path caused them to stumble across the slaughtered carcass of a strider. Jarek approached cautiously with his weapon raised as did Myler. He examined the remains and felt his nose wrinkle.

"What happened here?" he asked noting that the meat and limbs hadn't been ripped or chewed off as a Hound might've done. Rather they'd been hacked off by some crude edged weapon. It certainly wasn't the work of a clan hunter or Outcast. There was too much wasted meat.

"The Kroot happened," Myler growled. He looked closely and touched the slaughtered meat. Bugs had already started in on it and in a couple areas, it seemed like a scavenger had taken chunks. "It's several hours old, maybe more, but we must be cautious." Jarek nodded and they continued on.

Aside from the various Mandalorian clans, the only other group of intelligent life forms that lived on the planet was the native Kroot. Tall, lanky bipedal, reptiles they'd evolved from the same root species as the other creatures. They were savage but possessed a keen intelligence that allowed them to fashion tools and weapons making them a formidable adversary to the lone hunter or warrior. Still, the Kroot tribes were scattered and mostly leaderless being self-immolating at best and cannibalistic at the worst. None had ever attempted to attack a settlement, but still, their savagery was well known and Jarek remembered that he had to respect their power.

They rounded a corner in the trail and came to break in the trees. Up ahead stood the grazer. Its head up and scanning its surroundings.

 _There it is!_ He thought excitedly and hastily shouldered his blaster and took aim.

"Hold," hissed his father but it was too late. Jarek pulled the trigger before he'd steadied his aim. The shot went wide. The grazer bugled in alarm and raced off into the cover of the trees. Myler snatched the blaster from Jarek's hands. "What were you thinking?" He demanded clutching the weapon.

Jarek cast his gaze downward in shame realizing just how many mistakes he'd just made. He hadn't attacked from a position of stealth and neither had he settled on a good sight picture. For that, his prey had escaped.

"Now it's guard is up," Myler snapped angrily, "Only fire-" He paused at the sight of Jarek's ashamed expression and took a deep breath before continuing in a calmer tone "...only fire when I tell you to fire."

Jarek nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Be better," Myler stated and gestured in the direction the beast had fled, "Find it." Jarek nodded and reached for the weapon but Myler pulled it away and slung it over his shoulder. "Find...it."

Sighing Jarek turned and set off after the escaping grazer, Myler close behind. He kept mentally punishing himself but knew that wouldn't help him in his task. He focused his energy back onto tracking his prey.

The trail lead from the valley proper back into the forested edges of the valley wall. The beast was spooked and wouldn't stop until it felt it was safe. Unfortunately, that meant leading the pair of them on a merry chase into unknown regions of the valley.

The trees broke once more but rather than seeing the Grazer as he'd hoped, they found themselves in an open glade flanked by two low flat boulders. The Grazer's trail led across the glade, between the boulders and back into the trees.

Jarek was just starting to cut through the glade when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Instincts kicked in and he dove forward and rolled it his feet. Adrenalin coursed through his veins at the sight of what stood before him. Until that day he'd never seen such a creature but he knew enough from Myler to determine its identity.

Angry red eyes glared at him as scaly lips curled back revealing rows of sharp teeth. Its main of black quills decorated with beads bristled with aggression and rage. It raised from its crouching position and stood a full six feet supported by lean double-jointed legs clutching a long barreled slug thrower with crude blades affixed below its barrel and butt stock.

The Kroot warrior hissed at him and started to raise its weapon when Myler roared out in a challenge. The Kroot turned and saw the Mandalorian with _beskad_ and blaster pistol in hand. It spread its arms replying with a screeching roar of its own.

"My blaster!" Jarek called out eager to assist his father.

"No!" Myler replied jumping back as the Kroot took a swing at him with his bladed rifle, "You are not ready! Stay back!" The Kroot attacked again this time with an overarm swing and Myler caught it with the flat side of his _beskad_. He twisted slightly allowing the Kroot's momentum to carry its body into the barrel of his pistol. He pulled the trigger twice. Jarek only heard a pair of muffled thumps. The Kroot screeched in pain before going limp. Myler allowed its body to fall to the ground.

Myler was about to address Jarek when two more Kroot appeared atop each boulder. Howling, both Kroot leaped down intending to close in for the kill. Myler became a blur of motion. He flung his _beskad_ at the one to his left, forcing it to duck and roll. At the same time, he aimed his pistol at the other Kroot and dropped it with a few well-placed shots. He turned to deal with the first Kroot but it had already covered the distance between them. Myler attempted to take aim but the pistol was knocked from his hand. Rather than retreat, which is what the Kroot had expected, Myler ducked and launched himself forward into the beast's midriff. Pumping his legs hard, Myler drove the off-balanced creature all the way back up against the side of the boulder. The creature hissed as the impact drove the air from its lungs. Myler brought his helmeted head up catching the Kroot under the chin. Dazed it failed to retaliate in time to stop Myler from drawing and plunging his _kal_ into its throat multiple time.

Myler stepped back, breathing hard, allowing the bloody corpse to fall lifelessly to the ground. Quickly and methodically he cleaned and sheathed his dagger. Once he had retrieved his _beskad_ and pistol, Myler looked around at his son the picture of calm and collected nerves. Jarek had always known his father was a skilled warrior but to finally see him in action...words couldn't describe his adoration. He also knew his father wasn't one for platitudes and accolades.

Instead, Jarek knelt down and examined the nearest dead Kroot. He'd never seen one up close before and found them dreadfully fascinating. They were a shocking mixture of the alien and the familiar reminding him of the other creatures they'd hunted over the cycles. He didn't hate them as many Outcasts and clansmen did. He had no reason to, but now with an idea of their capabilities and seeing firsthand the look of savagery in their eyes, he now knew to be wary of them. Like his father he would strike hard and fast, keeping them off balance and not letting them bring their superior speed to bare.

Another lesson learned.

"Keep moving," Myler ordered. Jarek looked up at him noticing the streaks of dark green blood adorning the front of his armor. Strangely it did nothing to take away the effectiveness of the camouflage. At Myler's insistent nod, Jarek stood and continued on the hunt.

A few minutes up the path Jarek couldn't help but make a pointed observation. "You know, if you give me my blaster back I can help you fight. I'm ready."

"You have yet to prove that," Myler replied simply.

"I need a chance," Jarek argued keeping a close watch on the trail ahead and the surrounding trees.

"You _had_ a chance," Myler replied referring to his missed shot earlier.

Jarek felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment but continued with a determined tone. "Give me another."

"Then find that grazer," Myler stated flatly quickly ending the conversation.

Jarek wanted to object. He wanted to argue but knew it wouldn't do any good. Once Myler's mind was set it couldn't be deterred. His father had given him his task. He'd gotten off on a rocky start and had made the first mistake by not remaining patient. Now Jarek had a chance at redemption. He _had_ to find the grazer.

Unfortunately with the Kroot in the area it meant the grazer had most likely veered back down into the valley to avoid becoming a meal. Its prints supported this assumption. Jarek also knew they could make up ground by taking an old hunters trail that leads back down. It was rarely used that time of year but still serviceable. He shared this idea with Myler who agreed.

As they approached the trail they passed other signs that the Kroot had also been in the area. Footprints several days old, a long-abandoned camp, and heaps of snow-covered spore all indicated the savages had long since moved on. Myler seemed to agree with his deduction as well, so they pressed on.

The hunter's trail was one of many established by the clan as a means to circumvent difficult terrain. While most of it consisted of actual footpaths, it incorporated man-made handholds and ledges to help scale cliffs, and zip lines for traversing ravines and canyons. Jarek had seen and traveled on many such trails. More often than not the heights left him feeling a bit...giddy. He wasn't afraid of falling, but he _was_ afraid of dying. It was only natural.

The trail looped up a bit before descending back down, only leveling out when they came to a frozen stream. A stilted wooden bridge spanned it. Though it was covered in snow it appeared serviceable.

They were just beginning to cross it when Jarek felt the boards beneath his feet beginning to shift. At first, he thought the elements were finally taking their toll and that the bridge was about to collapse. He started to run when he felt a heavy hand grab his baldric.

"Back away boy!" Myler yelled, and Jarek gasped in surprise when he felt his feet leave the floor and he was hauled backward. It was a good thing too. Right, where he had been about to step the boards snapped and exploded outwards amidst a guttural roar that certainly wasn't made by the wind.

"Trespasser!" echoed a loud booming voice that was definitely not human. A massive scaled hand reached up and grabbed the broken edge of the bridge and levered up the rest of the voice's owner.

It was a Kroot, but not like the three that had attacked them earlier. This one was twice their height and massive in terms of bulk. Like its smaller kin, it wore the skins of prey and the bones of its trophies. A Krootoc; the larger angrier cousin to the Kroot.

"I'll feast on your guts!" It yelled so loud Jarek had to cover his ears. It raised both of it mighty fists above its head. Myler drew his pistol, but before he could take aim the Krootoc brought his fists down on the bridge. Already unstable from its entrance, the bridge shattered and fell out from under their feet. They both fell yelling in alarm as they hit the ice and slid several meters downstream.

Jarek struggled to his feet just in time to see the bulk of the Krootoc lumbering towards him. It took slow deliberate steps, its clawed feet unsure about the slippery surface. Jarek gave ground trying to keep as much distance between him and his opponent.

"Here is your chance," he heard Myler call and looked around just in time to see his father toss him his carbine. Though shocked he still managed to catch the weapon. Gripping the barrel and stock he looked back at his father who had drawn his _beskad_ and _kal_. He must have lost his pistol in the collapse. "Show me you are ready!" he ordered taking up a fighting stance.

" _Oya My'Buir_!" he replied shouldering the weapon and turning toward the beast who had managed to take up one of the bridge support as a weapon. Myler lunged forward and slashed with his weapons causing the beast to roar in pain.

"Watch out!" Jarek warned and Myler leaped back just as the Krootoc kicked out. Jarek took the opportunity to fire three shots. One connected with its shoulder while the other two struck the wooden beam it hoisted. It swung the improvised weapon causing both of them to duck.

"Stay back and space out your shots!" Myler yelled and advanced on the Krootoc, "I will draw it to me!" The older Mandalorian charged in again hacking and slashing at the beast's legs under covering fire from Jarek. Enraged the Krootoc lashed out causing Myler to retreat several steps before charging in again. They repeated this coordinated attack several times but despite Myler's blades dripping with blood and the Krootoc's hide dotted with blast marks and slashes, the beast kept fighting. Every time it counter-attacked Myler was forced to leap or duck aside and Jarek had to adjust his aim. If they didn't hurry, Myler would tire and his weapon's energy cell would be depleted.

The opportunity came when in its eagerness to inflict harm the beast overextended its reach exposing its chest. Jarek took aim at one of the many open slashes and fired. The shot pierced the wound causing the beast to scream on a mixture of anger and pain. It staggered and clutched at its bleeding wounds as if noticing them for the first time. Myler took advantage of its dazed state and hurled his _kal_ at its head. The steel blade spun end over end casting long arches of blood into the air. The point struck and sank into the beast's right eye, pulping it. The Krootoc howled in pain.

" _Buir_?" Jarek questioned keeping his eyes on the wounded creature.

"It is time," Myler stated sheathing his _beskad_ , "I will bring it down and you will kill it!" With a loud battle cry that shifted Jarek's very soul, Myler ran straight at the Krootoc. Noticing the approaching Mandalorian the beast swung its makeshift club, but it overestimated its reach. The weapon passed within inches of the warrior's visor before sailing passed. Taking advantage of the gap in the Krootoc's defenses, Myler leaped up and over its arm slamming his armored knee into its jaw. The Krootoc's head snapped back and Jarek saw teeth and blood spew out. Myler reached out grabbed a fistful of it quills as well as the handle of the knife still lodged in its eye socket. Utilizing his bodyweight and with the assistance gravity, Myler used the creatures pain and size against it, bringing it crashing down to the ice. Keeping his feet Myler twisted the blade and yanked at the quills forcing the Krootoc to scream but remain laying on its chest.

"Take the shot!" Myler ordered. Jarek leveled his weapon and targeted its vulnerable head. The Krootoc narrowed its one remaining good eye at Jarek.

"Wait!" it begged, causing Jarek to hesitate as he saw a glimmer of something akin to fear in its eye.

"Do it!" ordered Myler snapping Jarek back to the present, but by then the Krootoc had regained some of its balance. It slammed a fist into the ice causing the already fragile surface to crack and give way. Just as he squeezed the trigger, the beast jerked sideways pulling Myler forward...and into Jarek's line of sight.

"Father!" Jarek cried out in fear.

The bolt struck the back of his left shoulder plate and glanced off. Myler stumbled but recovered. "Get off the Ice!" he yelled as the once frozen stream began to give way beneath them. Jarek obliged retreating to the safety of the shore. Myler tore his _kal_ free and slashed it across the massive jugular vein in the Krootoc's throat. As the blood gushed out Myler leapt, tripping over the loose chunks of ice. He stumbled a couple of times but managed to get to the shore where Jarek waited, They both looked back in time to see the Krootoc clutching at it ruined throat while making halfhearted attempts to stay afloat. It soon sank beneath the surface. It along with the bloody blemish it created were washed downstream.

Only when the sight of it was gone did they both breathed sighs of relief. Coming down from his second life or death fight of the day, Myler was winded and taking several deep breaths. Jarek looked at the spot where the shot that was meant for the Krootoc, had hit his father instead. On the back side of his left shoulder plate was a large black carbon burn. The hardened beskar iron gleamed through the scorch mark and the Krootoc's green blood. The armor plate had done its job well. Though it hadn't caused any serious injury Jarek new it could have been far worse.

"I am so sorry," he began but was forestalled by a raised hand from Myler.

His father took a couple more deep breathes before pointing back down the trail they would've taken. "Your grazer is getting away."

Jarek sighed and nodded. "Yes, _buir_." He turned and hurried on, Myler close behind. In his own way that was how Myler moved past a disagreement, by focusing on the task at hand. Despite having just fought a protracted battle against a Krootoc and three Kroot before that the older Mandalorian kept the pace was a testament to his skill endurance and focus.

The path took them through a large camp occupied by a rough looking lean-too. Bits of a carcass, debris, and other bits of flotsam lay scattered about in what Jarek could only assume was the Krootoc's den. It was right off of the trail and had they not happened across it the Krootoc might've ambushed a whole hunting party. It wasn't lost on him that unbeknownst to the clan a couple of Outcast had just saved many lives. The way Myler nodded at the den, it seemed the thought wasn't lost on him as well.

They were still a ways from the end of the hunter's path and still sensing unease Jarek decided to break the silence. "...I can't believe we fought a Krootoc."

"And you froze," Myler replied dryly.

Once more Jarek's face burned with shame. "I know," he said before adding quickly, "but it was staring right at me, then it moved-"

"Your prey seldom sits still and awaits death," Myler stated firmly indicating the matter to be closed.

"Yes, _Buir_ ," Jarek replied and went back to navigating the last stretch of the trail. It wasn't long before they rediscovered the grazer's trail and they were back on the hunt again. As fate would have it the tracks were only minutes old. Moments later Jarek saw other telltale signs that their prey was near.

Lowering himself to a crouch he snuck up to the top of a boulder that provided a clear vantage. Near the top, he swept his gaze about a small clearing. Amidst the patches of long grass and fallen trees, and with no small amount of relief, he spotted their quarry.

"Father, look," he said in a low tone and Myler moved up beside him. The grazer stood calm, nibbling at the tall chutes of grass. Earlier the Grazer had moved too fast for him to get a good look, now he could see it clearly. It had a rack of six points with thick shoulders and well-defined haunches. It would dress out to over two hundred pounds of meat easily.

At a look from Myler, Jarek shouldered his weapon. "Wait for my mark," Myler said and Jarek took aim. " _Udesii_." Jarek controlled his breathing taking slow deep breathes. "Do not think of it like an animal. It is simply a target." Jarek took another breath and centered his sites directly at the area just behind the Grazers forelimb. "Clear your mind." Jarek's focus was razor sharp, and he took one more deep breath. "Exhale," he released the air holding it half way and his sites steadied, "and...Fire."

Jarek squeezed the trigger. The shot streaked out and struck the Grazer before the bark of the muzzle even registered. The grazer leaped up, kicking violently before sprinting off into the forest.

"I got it," he said unbelievably and looked up at Myler in confirmation.

" _Kandosii_." his father confirmed with an approving nod.

They descended from their perch and ran down to where the grazer had been standing. Sure enough, they found great blotches of blood. Aclear trail of amber liquid led into the trees. With the amount of blood loss it suffered it wasn't surprising they found the animal only a few dozen yards away. It lay on its side, flanks heaving for air, making pitiful bugling sounds that tugged at Jarek's heart.

It was in pain and despite the ever-expanding pool of blood beneath it, the beast still clung desperately to life.

"It is suffering," Myler stated kneeling next to the dying creature. "Your knife," he stated and pointed at the Grazers throat. "Finish what you started," he said fixing his son with a hard stare.

Gulping, Jarek drew his blade. Placing it against the grazer's throat. When they locked eyes he paused. The grazer held his gaze. It seemed to plead with him to make the pain go away. Jarek placed a consoling hand on its shoulder. The mantra that occupied his dreams came unbeckoned. It seemed appropriate.

 _There is no emotion...there is only Peace_

 _There is no Ignorance...there is only Knowledge_

 _There is no Passion...there is only Serenity_

 _There is no Chaos...there is only Harmony_

 _There is no Death..._

He pressed and drew the blade across the grazer's throat. It cut deep severing the arteries drenching his hand in warm sticky blood. The grazer stiffened briefly before relaxing. It eye rolled up and its lids closed. After one final drawn out breath it's body went still.

 _...there is only the Force._

Jarek took a breath, feeling more drained then he thought he would have. It wasn't the first time he'd seen animals die, but by his hand...it felt much more personal. He felt gratitude for the sustenance the grazer's meat would provide as well as a grief that it had to die for no other reason than to provide them with food. Despite that, he was filled with boundless elation. He had done it. He had completed his first hunt.

Myler placed a hand on his shoulder and Jarek looked up at him. His father had removed his _buc'ey._ Though he was smiling proudly at him, he also seemed to have a look of reluctance about him. "This your first kill, _ad'ika_ ," he placed a hand on his shoulder and stared at him with steady unblinking eyes, "Do not forget this feeling?"

Jarek didn't have to ask what he meant. Myler was referring to the feeling of accomplishment and pride. It was also the feeling of sadness and guilt at taking the life of another living being. All life was precious and that taking must serve a purpose.

"I won't _buir_ ," Jarek replied, "I won't."


	4. Chapter 4 Maturing

Disclaimer: I do not own star wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

 **Episode 1: Mandalorian Outcast**

 **Chapter 4: Maturing**

 **Planet Kalevala: Mandalorian Space: Four Cycles later:**

Jarek stepped out of the dwelling into the brisk mountain air. Spring was fast approaching as indicated by the melting and dripping snow. The first of the green chutes were also beginning to sprout. Everything around the dwelling was just as it should be. The animals milled about in their pens and the hydroponic garden hummed with activity. But there was one thing that wasn't where it should be.

" _Buir_?" he called but received no answer. He already knew the man wasn't there but peaked back inside just the same. Turning around he looked around the enclosure and still saw no sign of him. Where was he? Two days before the _Verd'goten_ and he goes off without him? Myler wouldn't do that. Not without a good reason.

" _Buir_!" Jarek called out, louder this time. The young man waited, listening intently. After a moment he heard a whistle, it melody carried on the wind. He made out the distinct rhythm and knew it was from Myler. Jarek also determined the direction that it came from. There was a ridge near the house that he was sure the whistle originated from. Jarek leaped off the front porch and took off at a sprint. In moments the ridge came into view and standing atop an overhang was his father. He didn't move or give any indication he knew his son was approaching.

Questions ran through Jarek's head. What was he doing on the ledge? Why was he just standing there? What was going on with him?

Only when Jarek ascended the cliff and stood next to him did the older warrior turn to face him. "Jarek," he greeted almost sounding surprised, "You're here." In the last four cycles, it seemed the years had finally caught up with the man. Gray-streaked his hair and wrinkles were starting to form around his mouth and eyes. He seemed to be cloaked in an air of reluctance, resignation, and deep contemplation.

"Did you want to be alone?" Jarek asked not wanting to interrupt his father amidst turbulent thoughts and also wanting to help him in any way he could.

"No," he stated quickly, "We must speak." He briefly glanced back out over the valley below before staring back at Jarek, "I've been thinking about your training...and you've learned to hunt and you've learned to survive. But there is a lesson I fear I have failed to teach you. Would you learn it now?"

To hear those words, words that hinted any lack of confidence in his father's abilities chilled Jarek to the core. It was true he had learned much in the last eight cycles. Ever since he felled the grazer the training had shifted from survival to aggression. Along with tracking and stalking, Myler taught him how to kill cleanly and neatly. Taught him how to fight as his life depended on it. The training had been demanding and very thorough. Jarek wasn't sure what else there was to learn. He remained calm and patient.

"Of course, _My'buir_ ," he said inclining his head towards his father and teacher, "I will always learn what you have to teach."

Myler nodded and gestured out towards the valley. "There has been some...trouble recently. It affords the opportunity to learn this lesson, but it will be dangerous. You must come prepared...or you will die." Jarek refrained from showing any sign of nervousness at his father's grave tone. "Collect your armor and weapons and descend into the Embrace."

"My armor?" Jarek questioned a little confused, "What kind of trouble are we talking about?" On most hunts, Myler had insisted on stealth which meant leaving his newly crafted _beskar'gam_ back at the dwelling. The only time he wore it was when they sparred, ran drills...or pursued some particularly aggressive predator.

Myler continued his instruction regaining the young man's attention. "Once you have your gear, you will meet me there," he pointed towards the north, "at the gate beyond the settlement of _Kart'a'Buir_."

"The north gate? That's at the edge of the Valley." A place he had never been to or allowed to venture.

"Yes." Myler stated, "Now be on your way."

Before turning away Jarek couldn't help by voice his concern. "Is something else bothering you?"

"No. I'm fine," Myler said in a flat tone, his gaze already returned to the view of the valley.

Undaunted Jarek pressed on. "Are you worried what will happen after the _Verd'Goten_?"

"What happens is clear," he replied without looking at him, "You will be a part of the clan, and I will still be _Dar'Manda_." His tone was flat; emotionless, "Too be shunned."

" _My'buir_ , even if the clan accepts me I won't-" he tried to console him but Myler cut him off.

"There is much to do, Jarek," he said sharply, "We can discuss this later."

There was no more point in continuing the discussion. Myler's tone was quite clear in that the matter was closed. "Okay...I'll gather my gear." He was about to leave when he remembered something, "I'm going to go pay Karst a visit first."

Myler growled at that. "Jarek, that man breaks the law every time he speaks to you."

"And I'm glad he does," the young man replied, "I want to buy a grapple attachment for my gauntlet and he's the only one who'll sell to _Dar'Manda_."

Myler sighed before saying, "Very well. You may find a use for it tonight."

"That sounds...ominous," Jarek murmured. When Myler didn't respond, Jarek bade him goodbye, "I'll see you at the North Gate." Myler didn't reply, but rather kept on staring out at the valley. Staring without actually focusing on anything. No point in trying to coax the truth out of him, Jarek hurried back to the dwelling. He knew something was really bothering Myler. He had to be thinking about the _Verd'Goten_ and what might happen afterward. Jarek would become a part of the _Mando'ade_ which meant he could no longer have contact with any _Dar'Manda_ , not even the man who raised him. If Myler thought Jarek would abandon him after the _Verd'goten_ , he was wrong.

Back at the dwelling, Jarek donned his armor. The amount of _Beskar_ they had traded for hadn't been enough to forge a complete set of armor like Myler's. Rather only a pair of chest plates, gauntlets, and greaves. No helmet like that of his father. Despite it being a minimalist set, he loved it for what it was. An act of love from a man who didn't have to be his father but rather chose to be. A gift from a man who not only raised him but taught him to be more than just an Outcast; more than just a survivor. They had forged that armor together and Jarek would always wear it in honor of his father.

After gathering what he needed he took the now all too familiar path down to outskirts of the village. He passed the place where the boy Gaegan had hit him with the rock. The thought if those moments brought back ghostly emotions of anger that would transform into a drive to prove himself worthy of answers.

The path continued on passed _Kart'a'Buir_. He glanced over at the walled settlement. Two more days and he'll know what it's like in there. He wondered with so many beings crammed into one place, no one must ever get lonely. It was an amusing and strangely comforting thought. He continued traveling through to a smaller settlement near _Kart'a'Buir_ where Karst kept his rather small trading post. As he passed through, many residents cast him dirty looks or just simply ignored him. "Yep it's the motherless Outcast again," he thought bitterly to himself, "Go ahead and stare."

Karst was a Mandalorian well past his prime. While he still wore his armor he seldom donned the helmet or carried more than a blaster pistol. Upon Jarek's approach, Karst glanced left then right before greeting him. "Well, well, well, a _Dar'Manda_ on my doorstep," he raised his hands in mock terror, "Ancestors protect me."

"Smart mouth _chakaar_ ," Jarek mused affectionately. It was refreshing to deal with a member of the _Mando'ade_ who didn't react like he was a plague or something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of their boot. "Surprised you saw me when you look every other direction to make sure no one is watching," Jarek replied sarcastically, "Careful, you'll strain your neck."

"It's always a pain in the neck when you show up, boy," Karst replied with a smirk, "One way or another."

"There a reason you're acting so cranky today?"

Karst shook his head, but then looked thoughtful before shrugging. "Once you run the _Verd'Goten_ and join the clan you'll deal with traders in _Kart'a'Buir_. Maybe I don't like losing customers."

"Traders who don't break the law and sell to Outcasts you mean?" Jarek retorted making the elder Mandalorian snicker.

"That's right, our days of crime will be behind us," he gave a hard look, "so long as you keep quiet."

"Are you worried I'm going to tell someone that you traded with _Dar'Manda_?"

"I don't think you're the kind who talks," Karst replied nonchalantly, "But you never know."

"You can stop worrying," Jarek remarked reassuringly, "Your secret's safe with me."

"That's what I figured. But I don't mind hearing it."

"The only person I told about our trades is Myler." Jarek liked Karst and figured he deserved to know the whole truth.

He shrugged not too concerned about the idea of Myler knowing anything about him. "Yeah, well not like he can turn me in even if he wanted too. Honor and duty the sorta man your father is. I don't know how you stand it."

"Why _do_ you take the risks selling to outcasts?" Jarek asked curiously while also avoiding any dissenting talk about his father. He liked Karst, but he respected his father more.

"Every time you ask," Karst groaned and shook his head. "If a big meaningful talk is what you're after, move along."

"Is it because you used to be one?" Jarek pressed undeterred.

If Karst was surprised that Jarek knew, he didn't show it. "Yeah, for five years," as if he wasn't revealing anything more interesting than the weather, "After my shunning, I tried living back in _Kart'a'Buir_ , but everyone I'd known had moved on and there just seemed to be too many people." He gestured to the sparsely populated settlement and the wilderness beyond. "I like it better out here."

Sensing the end of the discussion, Jarek turned his attention back to his reason for being there. "Last time I visited you had a grappling hook attachment for trade. Still got it?"

A glint of excitement twinkled in the merchant's eye. "Still do." He gave Jarek a once over, his gaze settling on his full satchel. "You have the means to trade?

"I can pay." Jarek stated and pulled out a tightly bound bundle of rolled scaly skins, "Three well-tanned Grazer skins with quills and claws. As agreed."

Karst took the skins without so much as a second glance before producing a small squared off device from within his booth. Jarek took the attachment eagerly unsure whether it was he or Karst who made out better in the deal. After all, it wasn't Karst who had to track, kill and skin three Grazers across dozens of miles of rough terrain. Plus he had a feeling that off-world traders paid a pretty sum for the exotic skins.

"Now that you have the launcher," Karst stated indicating the exit, "I suggest you go play with it someplace else, eh." He was being good-natured, but Jarek could sense he was eager to have them part ways before they were seen together. It was nothing personal, just good business.

"I guess that concludes our business then," Jarek stated with a smile as he attached the grabbling hook assembly to his gauntlet.

"I guess it does," Karst stated and held out his hand. Jarek took it and shook once. "Good luck in the _Verd'goten_ , boy. Blessings of the ancestors and all that." Without another word, Jarek exited the trading post and headed for the North Gate.

Traveling the well-used road cut down on the travel time and he made it to the North Gate well before nightfall. The barrier that separated the Embrace from the world beyond was made of large steel plates and a gate that looked as if it was a massive blast door salvaged from a starship. Add the dozen or so Orion warriors in full kit and it was a very imposing sight. Yet that wasn't what drew his attention. Beyond the wall, he saw a couple plumes of black smoke and what sounded like distant sporadic blaster fire. What was going on out there?

"Jarek, you made it." the sound of Myler's voice nearly made him jump but he managed to shrug it off. Looking around he saw his father sitting next to a roaring fire just off the road under cover of some trees. "You have your gear as well," he stated at his approach, "Good."

Jarek took a seat next to the fire and held out his gauntlet, "I got the grappler from Karst."

Myler leaned forward and examined the mechanism with a critical eye. He had a similar attachment on his own gauntlet along with a handful of other. Most Mandalorians outfitted their gauntlets with extra features to give them an extra edge in a fight. After a moment he nodded saying, "I hate to think what that outlaw trader charged for a tool of that make."

Jarek shrugged. "It wasn't cheap but it will definitely be worth it."

"Perhaps," Myler stated, "You'll know it's worth soon enough."

His words caused Jarek to look out towards their walls, eyeballing the plumes he'd seen earlier. "The smoke beyond the Embrace-" he looked back at his father, "is that the trouble you were talking about?"

"You will know soon enough," he stated flatly prodding the fire with a stick, stoking the flames, "For now we wait till dark."

"Wait for Dark?" Jarek asked confused and a little curious, "I don't understand all that smoke coming from _outside_ the embrace. What can we do from in here?"

Myler stabbed the stick into the ashes and Jarek could feel the weight if his stare even through the tinted visor of his helmet. "The lesson will be taught in due time, Jarek. Until then, we wait."

Jarek knew he should let it go and try and get some rest but the level of uneasiness he sensed rolling off of his father was nearly palpable. He had to assure him that everything would be okay. He sat up and looked at Myler. "Look, _Buir_ ," the older man looked up at him, "I've thought it through and I won't shun you after the _Verd'goten_. I'm just...I won't do it. I won't pretend that you never raised me. That you weren't a father to me when you didn't have to be."

"Jarek..." Myler sighed before tossing the stick into the fire. His next words were straight no-nonsense. "The law forbids all contact. It has been my wish that you would one day be a part of the clan and to be a part of the clan you must obey the law."

The younger man clenched his fists in frustration. He wondered what it would take to make the man see sense. "I know...and I don't care," he stated sharply, "I know what duty means to you, but all the laws have ever done was set me apart and take things away." he slammed his fist on his knee for emphasis, "That's not going to happen again."

"Jarek... _I_ must obey the law."

"And so you will," Jarek replied with a slightly confident smile, "I knew you'd say that...So here's what we'll do." Lowering his tone to an almost a conspiratorial whisper he said, "I'll come to you in secret. I'll sneak out so no one will see me so I can't get in trouble." He held up a hand to forestall his comment and continued, "And I know you won't talk to me because it's against the law so I'll talk to you. It'll be my crime, not yours...you'll just listen. And that's how we'll handle this."

Myler gave a halfhearted chuckled and slowly shook his head in bewilderment, "You've put a lot of thought into this."

"I have," he said proudly, "So don't worry. It's been handled."

Myler sighed in what sounded like defeat. "So it has..."

Sensing the conversation had reached its end and his own conscious assuaged, Jarek decided to take his father's earlier advice. "Still a while to go before dark," he said stretching, "Guess I'll get some rest."

"Wise," Myler said as if he hadn't made the suggestion mere moments before, "There will be no time for sleep tonight."

It felt like he had only just closed his eye when Myler was shaking Jarek awake. If it wasn't for the fact the sky had gone from a pale blue to near blackness he'd have thought no time had passed at all. Without a word they broke camp and headed towards the gate. On approach the pair of guards on duty noticed them. Jarek half expected them to draw weapons and chase them off given his history of chilled greetings from other members of the clan. To his utmost surprise, the lead guard hit a control and the massive blast door came to life. It opened just enough to allow the pair of them to walk through. As they passed both Myler and the guards exchanged respectful nods.

Once they were outside and the gates resealed, Jarek couldn't help but ask, "Opening the gate for _Dar'Manda_?"

Myler shrugged but never broke stride, "Some who are outcast reaped honor before disgrace." Once again Jarek was painfully aware of just how little he knew about his adoptive father. He was sure there was nothing he'd done that would change how he felt, but he couldn't help but wonder, given his wide range of skills and knowledge...who had he been before being outcast?

"So much for clan law," Jarek murmured a little perturbed at the hypocrisy.

"I spoke to no one," Myler stated pressing forward. "And now we must both keep our wits here outside the Embrace. These are the true wilds Jarek, with threats unlike any you've ever faced." Myler wasn't wrong, aside from the road they traveled there was little to no indication of a civilized presence out there. He'd been so long in familiar settings of the valley that he'd forgotten of a whole other world beyond the Embrace. It both terrified and excited him. One day soon he'd be able to go well beyond the Embrace and the planet, Kalevala itself into the wider galaxy.

First things first.

Less than a mile from the gate they came across the corpse of a tall-neck. Jarek had seen the flat nosed behemoths from a distance, but never so close. The creature was over twenty feet tall if it was an inch and like the others of its species, a long mane of quills ran from the top of its head all the way down to its massive shoulders.

However, its grandeur was marred by the gaping wounds across its flank, and throat. Massive claw marks had torn open it tree trunk sized neck exposing the bone and muscle beneath. It flank was a mauled mess with its organs spilling out onto the blood-soaked ground. The kill was at least a day old but for some reason, the scavengers had left it alone. Odd. A corpse like that was a veritable buffet and yet there it sat.

Myler gestured for Jarek to follow. He did but couldn't help but glance back one last time at the scene. There was only one predator capable of bringing down a tall-neck. A greater Knarloc, but the tall-neck hadn't been feasted upon at all, more like it was savaged for the sake of violence. "That carcass," he whispered, "What kind of beast could do that?"

"It's called a Nexu," Myler explained still walking, "A non-native of the planet brought in by some rich _chakaar_ and got loose. Since they've come south they've ravaged the herds and killed many innocents who were caught outside the Embrace." Jarek wasn't familiar with the species, and if it wasn't from Kalevala then it wouldn't look anything like the predators he'd faced before.

An unknown adversary with the strength to bring down a tall-neck? Did Myler expect him to kill it? Was that why they were out there?

A little further down the road, they took a side trail. "Why are we the only ones out here tonight?" Jarek couldn't help but ask, desperately trying to keep the nerves out of his voice. "Can't the clan's warriors hunt this beast?"

"They did...unsuccessfully," Myler said in a flat emotionless tone, "And tomorrow they will hunt again."

"They won't need to," Jarek stated steeling his nerves with confidence, "This Nexu will be my kill."

"Or your death if you are not careful," Myler scoffed deflating Jarek's ego in an instant.

Moments later they rounded a bend in the trail. Jarek scented smoke on the air though it was too dark to see. It must've been from the column he'd seen earlier in the day. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind when they came out of the trees onto a low shelf that he got his answer. Nestled on the edge of the shelf up against a rock face stood a dwelling, not unlike Myler's, complete with a palisade. However, it had a few noticeable differences. Namely, the palisade was a shattered mess of splintered wood and twisted metal. The building itself...had seen better days as well. The roof sported a number of gaping holes revealing the struts within and where the front door had been was a gaping hole. Smoke still drift up lazily from piles of ash that could have been anything.

"An entire dwelling wrecked?" Jarek asked in complete shock, "What kind of creature can do that?"

"I didn't bring you here to ask questions, Jarek," Myler declared in a low but sharp tone. He jerked his chin towards a nearby stand of trees. "I brought you here to deal with that."

Jarek looked towards the copse of trees that his father had indicated. At first, he saw nothing. Just the deepening shadows of the night, but Jarek knew better. He looked closer, passed the shadows, at the movement of the foliage. The slight breeze sent the underbrush moving one way, but then he saw a line of bushes move in the opposite. He saw the long-grass bend as it was displaced by something large and low to the ground.

Then he saw it. The branches overhead parted and shafts of moonlight caught on silvery white fur with black stripes. It had to be fourteen and a half feet from its four red eyes to the end of its forked tail.

"It's huge," Jarek gasped feeling the nervous energy coursing through his system. "How do I defeat something like that?" he asked.

"That will be for you to decide." He heard Myler say. He turned in time to see his father backing away towards the shadows of the underbrush, making his intentions very clear. "This hunt is yours to make, Jarek-yours alone," He said continuing his slow retreat. "No matter what happens I will not intervene. Do you understand? You are on your own." Myler didn't give him a chance to reply before he vanished completely from sight.

Jarek felt the oh-so-familiar rush of adrenaline whenever he faced a predator. He'd accompanied Myler when they hunted the native carnivores; Hounds, Scrappers, Snapjaws, and even Sawtooths. But he'd never faced a creature like this. He didn't know its patterns, its capabilities, or weaknesses.

Was this what Myler wanted? To test him one last time against a new unknown threat?

Jarek took a deep breath to steady himself. Taking a knee he observed the Nexu. It may have been an alien species but it was still prey. Like every prey, there was a way to go about taking it down.

Step one was to be prepared and realize there was a possibility that he could get attacked. So he had to make sure he was capable of defending yourself. He had his blaster with a full charge and his blades were well-honed if things got close and personal. It was also important to know his prey but he hadn't the time. The Nexu would have his scent before too long and he'd need to act fast.

Step two was to know the terrain. There was approximately four-hundred meters of rolling ground covered in patches of long-grass and speeder sized boulders scattered intermittently. The grass would offer cover and concealment, while the boulders helped obscure eye-lines. The boulders would also help funnel the Nexu in the direction he needed it to go.

Step three was to prepare the ground ahead.

Jarek leaped down from his over-watch position to the ground below. He figured he had less than ten minutes before the wind changed and the Nexu caught his scent. Maybe less of its olfactory senses were more sensitive than the native species. He had to assume they were.

Moving at a low crouch, Jarek entered the long-grass and approached the nearest boulder. With practice ease and efficiency he set up a trip wire across the opening to another boulder and tied it off on a stake. Moving forward Jarek set up a second trip wire and then a third. When the last wire was set, Jarek pulled back. He had just reached the first trap when he heard the first growl.

Sinking into the long grass he saw the creature emerge onto the open ground, skulking through a patch of brush. Its wide head swung back and forth taking in and surveying the territory ahead. Its mouth opened and closed with each breath, while tail swished side-to-side. Its shoulders were tensed bundles of muscle indicating it was ready to pounce at a moment's notice. It had caught his scent; definitely sharper senses.

Jarek shouldered his blaster and readied his grappling hook.

One breathe...

Two breaths...

Three breaths...

The Nexu moved, faster than any other predator Jarek had ever seen, and yet he waited. It leaped out of the long-grass, low to the ground. Jarek waited.

Clawed feet tore at the soil as it cleared over twenty feet in a single stride. Jarek waited.

A hissing, inhuman screech exited its gaping maw revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth, baying for blood. His blood, and yet Jarek waited.

The Nexu hit the first trap. Its forelimbs had already cleared it, but its rear legs caught. The wire ripped free and retracted, wrapping around them. Unable to move properly it tried to bring its fore-paws up to catch itself only to hit the second trap. The wire snapped like the first and entangled the front legs just like the others. The nexu's predatory roar turned into a pained squeal as it tumbled end-over-end. Then it hit the final trap. The wire snapped and snared its way around the body pinning its bound forelimbs to its torso.

Successfully snared the nexu rolled to a halt almost directly in front of Jarek's hiding place. The alien carnivore hissed as it struggled viciously against the bindings. It twisted its bound hind legs and attempted to gnaw at the wire but succeeded only in writhing about in the dirt.

Jarek stood, and stepped out of the grass and raised his blaster. The movement caught the nexu's attention. It paused briefly in its struggle to watch him with two of it angry red eyes. Jarek took one more step and the Nexu released a challenging roar that Jarek felt in his bones, freezing him in his tracks. The sheer level of anger and hostility rolling off of the creature hit him like a brick wall. Before then he had thought the Kroot Warriors were the most alien thing he'd ever seen, but the Nexu...was literally a thing from another world. It had been taken from everything it had known and put in a place it didn't belong surrounded by creatures and beings it had never seen. It was confused, angry...and afraid. He sympathized with it. Just as quickly as he registered the emotion, he pushed it aside. Fear and anger was no excuse for the level of savagery he'd witnessed.

Taking a deep breathe Jarek brought up his blaster and took aim. The Nexu gnashed its jaws snarling and kicked out more furiously in an attempt to reach him. It was as if it knew what was about to happen and was desperate to cling to its existence.

Unfortunately, its continued survival threatened the lives of others, including his own. It was also his task to hunt and kill the beast, and he wouldn't fail. Just as his father had taught him on his first hunt; it wasn't an animal, it was a target.

Jarek squeezed the trigger. The muzzle barked once. The Nexu went rigged, mouth agape. Its four red eyes, once wide with rage, bulged in shock and then faded to clear. The nexu's body went limp as the last breath escaped its lungs. Jarek waited a moment longer before approaching cautiously. Another moment longer and he was sure the beast was dead.

He eyeballed the entire corpse. The black and white striped fur gleamed in the moonlight brilliantly. Jarek couldn't help admire the way it flowed. It would make a brilliant cloak or quilt. Then his gaze fell on the claws; black as night and razor sharp. They were the perfect tools for climbing, running, and killing. They would make the perfect trophy. Kneeling he drew his knife and set to work cutting and prying them loose.

Jarek was almost finished when he perceived Myler approaching. He felt more than saw his father take in his kill. Jarek expected to hear Myler's typical congratulations for a successful hunt followed by the critique, but instead received a question, "Why did I bring you out here?"

"Well..." Jarek fumbled for an answer, caught off guard, "not to ask questions."

"Jarek…" Myler said in a warning tone.

Sighing Jarek shoved the claws into a pocket. Standing he turned to face Myler. He thought briefly on the situation and the Instructions given prior. "Survival requires perfection," He replied confidently, "It was a test. To test my skills against an unknown prey."

"No. Follow." Once more Jarek was taken off-guard by Myler's remark but quickly fell in step behind him. Myler led him up a steep winding path leaving the impromptu battlefield behind. The path eventually leveled out onto a bluff. Beyond the crest of the bluff was an awe-inspiring view of the valley. He could clearly see the North Gate and the sweeping vista of the Embrace. Myler turned to face him but raised an arm, gesturing in the direction of the Embrace. "These lands belong to Clan Orion. They must be protected," he lowered his arm and set his gaze on Jarek, tone serious, "therefore the clan must be protected. If you hadn't killed the Nexu how many clansmen might it have killed or injured tomorrow?" Remembering the sheer savage lethality of the Nexu, Jarek couldn't even think of a reply. Myler held up a finger stating, "The lesson lives within the question, Jarek." Lowering the finger he continued. "For years you have trained to _win_ the _Verd'Goten_ , but only for yourself. As a warrior and hunter, it will be your duty to protect your clan-"

" _My_ clan!?" he sputtered shocked at Myler's statement, seeing as the clan had done nothing to help them and yet here they were risking their lives for their benefit. It didn't sit right with him. "You said I wouldn't need them."

"Yes," he said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But I never said they wouldn't need you." Jarek sighed and started to look away. Myler moved his hand to the side of his face gently making Jarek look him directly in the eye. Even through the visor, Jarek could feel the sincerity and how deeply he was trying to impress upon him the importance of his words. "The strength to stand alone is the strength to make a stand. To serve a purpose greater than yourself." He shook Jarek slightly for emphasis, his tone taking on an almost desperate edge. "That is the lesson you must learn. And remember it...after the _Verd'goten_...and after I am gone." Myler lowered his hand with a sigh and stepped back. Jarek was speechless unsure how to respond. Apparently, Myler wasn't expecting an answer right then. He turned and started back down the path. "We're finished here," he said over his shoulder, "Follow."

It was a good thing it was a long way back to the dwelling. Jarek had much to think about.


	5. Chapter 5 Leaving the Nest

Disclaimer: I do not own star wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

 **Episode 1: Mandalorian Outcast**

 **Chapter 5: Leaving the Nest**

 **Planet Kalevala: Mandalorian Space:**

The next morning.

By the time dawn had passed on the day of the _Verd'Goten_ Jarek was already awake. Unable to sleep he had risen early to prepare himself. He checked and rechecked his weapons and equipment. He made sure his armor was in order, and because he couldn't keep himself still longer than three minutes he set about doing the chores around the dwelling. To say he was nervous was an understatement and to describe himself as anxious would've been redundant. The young man had been preparing himself for that day for years. He'd trained for hours a day with Myler. Most nights he'd collapse onto his cot out of sheer exhaustion only to awaken mere hours later prepared to do it all over again.

"This will be your last day in the Embrace as _Dar'Manda_ ," Myler had said as they left the dwelling and headed towards the valley's main settlement. Jarek noted a hint of reluctance in his voice as he spoke. "Use this time to prepare your mind for the challenges before you."

The morning after his successful hunt of the nexu Jarek and Myler, after dragging the carcass to the gate, had returned home rested a few hours and went about their day. The guards had expressed surprise at the sight of the dead predator, but the only indication of gratitude they had received was a few clipped nods.

Nothing had changed.

But Jarek felt something inside of him change. Like his body, his mind had not been idle in the time following the hunt. Playing Myler's words through his brain several times over, Jarek had given great care to the lessons his father had been trying to teach. Finally en route to _Kart'a'Buir_ Jarek gave voice to his thoughts.

Drawing up next to older Mandalorian's shoulder he said, "I understand the final lesson, _Buir_."

"Do you?" Myler asked but still maintained the pace. He didn't turn to look at his son either and his tone seemed more accusatory then curious. He wanted to make sure Jarek actually understood.

Jarek nodded. It harkened back to one of the first things Myler had told him about hunting. A lone hunter could easily bring down smaller prey, but only together in a strong pack could it survive and bring down the largest of quarries. The strength of the hunter is the pack, and the strength of the pack is the hunter. Jarek knew Myler was following his thoughts. The man had raised him nearly since birth and knew his mind like no other.

"If I am going to stand for something," he explained, "Whether it be the clan, or something else...It'll be something _I_ believe in."

"Then I hope you find it, Jarek," Myler replied earnestly, "I hope you do."

Before long the walls of _Kart'a'Buir_ came into view. He'd seen them many times before, but never this close. The settlement butted up against the valley wall covering a large hill with a wide river running parallel to two-thirds of the length of ramparts. It was a fortress; a place of refuge as much as it was a place to live.

They followed the river downstream until they came to a bridge that spanned its width to the entrance to the city. There Myler brought them to a halt. He turned and looked at his son.

"This is where I must leave you." he said his voice flat and neutral, "As an outcast, I cannot enter the settlement." Jarek had known this, but some small part of him, the part that was still that little boy lost in the cave, had hoped his father would be by his side comforting him. "It is time." Myler said drawing his attention, "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Jarek said feeling his nerves jitter, "I guess." He looked over at the walled settlement. The festival within, celebrating the coming of age of the clan's next generation, was in full swing and the raucous was audible even over the rolling torrent of the river. "It's louder than I expected," he murmured doing his best to calm himself.

"You've never been so close before," Myler stated matter-of-factly.

"I guess everything is bigger up close," Jarek quipped attempting to lighten the mood a bit.

"Soon it'll all seem familiar," Myler stated, "Like home."

Jarek felt an odd chill at the word 'home.' Home to him was back at their dwelling just as it had been all his life. Always warm and welcoming after every hunt and trek. The idea that _Kart'a'Buir_ might ever feel like that seemed...unfathomable. "I don't know about that." he murmured.

"Look for Chief Teersa," Myler said, "She will help you." Jarek knew whom he spoke of. Teersa was the chief of the whole Orion Clan. According to Myler, it was up to the clan chief to uphold the traditions and laws of the _Mando'ade_ and that for Clan Orion there had been no better chief.

Before turning to leave and feeling a little reticent about taking the first step towards his new life, he asked, "Any final lessons before I head in?"

"No," Myler stated flatly, "You've learned every lesson the wilds have to teach."

Jarek shook his head and stared up at his father. "It was you who taught me, _My'buir_. Not the wilds." He sighed and looked nervously back towards the settlement, "Not sure my _beskad_ and blaster will be of much use in there, though.

Myler placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. "It is with your _mind_ that you'll succeed in obtaining what you have wanted all these years, Jarek."

"What should I expect once I'm inside?" he asked nodding towards the gates.

Following his gaze he answered, his tone forlorn, "There will be people celebrating and feasting. More then you've ever seen in one place. No other settlement in the Embrace compares to _Kart'a'Buir_. It is the seat of the High Chief, the center of Clan Orion, and the jewel of the valley." They turned back to look at one another. "Give it time and you will grow fond of it...as I did, back when I was _Mando'ade_."

"Are you sure they're going to let me in?" he asked unable to keep the pessimistic doubt from entering his mind. Memories of the angry warriors in the gully, of children throwing rocks, and of a mother's disgusted scowl filled his mind.

"I've told you Jarek." Myler said his tone serious, "By clan law, any child of the Outcasts can run in the _Verd'Goten_ -"

"'-And any who pass are made members of the clan'" Jarek finished his tone slightly mocking. "I know this. But not everyone follows the law like you do, _buir_."

"Have faith, Jarek. The clan will honor your right." Myler hesitated a moment before saying, "I must tell you, the _Verd'Goten_ is not a simple hunt or fight to prove your worth." He pressed a finger to Jarek's chest, "It is a test of your very soul and the strength of your commitment to the _Mando'ade_. And it _will_ test you, Jarek."

"Whatever it is." he stated confidently, "I'll be ready."

Myler nodded, but then quickly drew Jarek into a tight embrace. It shocked him for only a moment before Jarek returned the gesture. "For what it's worth," Myler mumbled, his tone quivering, "good luck" He held Jarek at arm's length and stared intently at him, his voice deep with emotion, "I am so proud of you...my son. No matter what, you will always be my _ad'ika_.

Jarek was doing his best to hold back the tears threatening to spill over just as he knew he father was. "And I couldn't be prouder to call you father." They hugged once more before Myler urged him towards the bridge.

Steeling himself Jarek left his father and walked across the bridge up to the main gates of the city. It took much of his willpower to resist the urge to look back. Instead, he focused on what lay ahead.

The walls were an imposing sight at over 15 feet tall with the gatehouse an extra six. The massive gates made of a combination of steel and thick wooden timbers were guarded by a pair of fully armored Mandalorian warriors. They didn't give any indication they saw him, but he knew their eyes followed him from beneath their visors.

He was nearly upon the gate when both warriors stepped forward blocking his path.

"You will turn back _Dar'Manda_ ," the one to his left declared, "Or bleed-your choice."

They didn't give him a chance to respond before leveling their rifles and began forcing him back. Jarek felt his panic rise and glanced over his shoulder hoping to see Myler running to his rescue but there was no one. He was on his own. He started to reach for his own weapon when a voiced rang out from the city gate.

" _Gar'nari shebs_!" the voice cracked like a whip. Both men froze and turned. Standing in front of the now open gates was a Mandalorian woman bedecked in an elegant combination of _beskar'gam_ and robes. Her long greying hair was heavily braided and she clutched a staff in her hand. "Warriors, stand aside," she ordered and both men instantly stepped back coming to attention and saluting. The woman glared hard at either warrior as she approached. Then her face split into a wide smile as she rushed forward shocking Jarek by embracing him like a long lost friend. "He is welcome here," she declared happily stepping back and looking at him, " _Kart'a'Buir_ is open to you _Verd'ika_. Come." She steered him back through the gate waving a dismissive hand at the guards still standing at attention. "I assure you most of the clan aren't as rude as those _di'kutla_."

Once inside, the woman stopped and released him, looking him up and down. Give her commanding presence and ornate armor Jarek had a good idea whom this person was without any introduction. "You're...Chief Teersa?"

"Who else would I be, Jarek?" she replied jovially before gesturing him forward, "Come now. I've been waiting for this day for many years."

"You have?" he asked very confusedly. He hadn't even been sure the Chief of Clan Orion even knew he existed, much less his name.

"Oh yes," she declared but upon glancing at the chronometer on her gauntlet sighed. "But for the moment I must leave you. I have some _aruetii_ I must see too."

"You...what?" Jarek was so lost he wasn't even sure which way was north. Too many things were happening at once and he and no idea what was going on. Myler had told him to find Teersa, which not only had _she_ found him, but she treated him like they'd known each other their entire lives.

"Envoys from Mandalore," she explained appearing to not relish the idea, "from the Empire-come to observe the _Verd'goten_. And have words of peace. Pfft." She waved yet another dismissive hand. "No self-respecting warrior would ever preach peace to clan Orion." Just as quickly as her ire rose it disappeared and she sighed in reluctance, "but alas they are guests and must be given the honor." She shook her head and smiled at him, "But that is my problem. I will see you later at the ceremony. In the meantime," she gestured grandly at their surroundings, "enjoy the festival." She started to leave when she turned having remembered something. "Oh! Down the path," she indicated the one she spoke of, "to the right you'll find an old friend who can't wait to see you."

Once more Jarek felt overwhelmed by his confusion. "But-I don't know anybody here."

"Ha! Try telling him that," she laughed as she continued to back away, "We'll talk later. _Ret'urcye mhi_!" and with that she was gone, disappearing into the throngs of people.

...what was going on...?

With no other obvious choices and still a bit overwhelmed, Jarek traveled down the path that Teersa directed him, taking in his surroundings.

The festival was in full swing. Mandalorians wearing everything from full _beskar'gam_ to simple work attire were all over. Some danced around bonfires while others sang or played music. Some were involved in very lively conversations with friends and family. Some merely sat back and enjoyed the frivolity while downing _tihaar;_ strong clear spirit made from fruit, like _eau de vie._

The merrymaking was in such high spirits hardly anyone bothered to care whether he was _dar'manda_ or not. They just slapped him on the shoulder and passed him a drink, praising the ancestors all the while. He'd returned their enthusiasm with polite smiles before passing the strong alcohol off to another. He needed to stay sharp for the _Verd'goten_ after all _._

The structures around him also drew his eye. The buildings of the settlement were surprisingly uniform, made of a combination of duracrete mixed with pale glass panes. At first glance they appeared to be uniform in their Construction. Though all the buildings seem to conform to the same rigid blueprint, each individual dwellings were different. Upon closer inspection, Jarek could see that each building was unique to those that resided inside. Whether it was scroll-work along the trim or knot-work around the doors each dwelling reflected the individuals that resided. Jarek could also see the similarities in the shapes and angles of the windows and walls to those of the armor that he and other members of the clan wore. Reaching up he touched the diamond-shaped piece at the center of his chest plate and was surprised to see its likeness repeated in various forms throughout the settlement. Everything from the patterns of the helmet and curves of the weapons all seemed to blend and mix just as the culture of the Mandalorians seemed to ebb and flow throughout the Clan.

The settlement and the festival, he had to admit, were quite a riotous spectacle of joy and color.

"Jarek!" At the sound of his name he turned in the direction it came from, "It's you, isn't it? Over here!" He'd been so distracted by his surroundings, Jarek hadn't realized where he'd arrived. Jarek turned as saw a young man almost ten years his senior standing before an open workshop. He was smiling and waving excitedly. Still, a bit bewildered he approached the young man cautiously. "It is Jarek, isn't it? I'm remembering your name correctly?"

"Are you the 'old friend' Teersa mentioned?" Jarek asked. He took in the lads features and while they seemed familiar nothing about him triggered a memory. "I don't know you."

"I see you don't recognize me." The young man didn't appear insulted or even the least bit put out. He just smiled and shrugged before saying, "Well it was more than a few cycles ago." He gave a small bow and greeted, "Tebb is my name and you were half my size when you saved me from those striders and hounds."

The memory of the events back in the gully quickly flooded his brain. He recalled sneaking through the grass and pulling an injured youth to safety. He recalled the older warrior shouting Tebb's name. He also recalled Myler's protective stance. It all came back to him as if it were only yesterday. "I remember," Jarek murmured and Tebb smiled, "You tried to thank me."

"I never forgot that day," Tebb responded his tone seriously but his smile warm, "All these years I hoped for a chance to see you again and repay the debt I owe you. When Teersa said you'd be in the _Verd'goten_ I was thrilled." Jarek wondered how the clan chief had known he'd be there, but filed the question away for later and continued listening to Tebb's story. "As you can see I didn't make it as a hunter. So I serve the clan as a stitcher-a maker of garments and armor." He gestured for him to follow as he turned to enter the shop. Jarek hesitated before following. Tebb stood before a mannequin on which was displayed a suit of armor. "In honor of what you did for me, I crafted this _beskar'gam_ for you."

Jarek blinked several times in shock as the young man presented him with a nearly full set of Mandalorian armor plus a helmet. It wasn't the prettiest set of iron skin that Jarek had ever seen but it was of a very fine make. The individual plates were unpainted revealing the burnished gunmetal beneath and they were mounted on a simple brown leather flak vest. The helmet was also unadorned and unpainted and yet just by looking at it, Jared could see that it would serve its purpose well.

Ever the skeptic Jarek couldn't help but pose the question. "What's it cost?"

"Cost?" Tebb looked a little peeved at first but quickly shook it off. "Nothing! Consider it the thanks I tried to give all those years ago, long overdue."

Jarek was admittedly overwhelmed by the generosity. So much so that he couldn't say anything even as he removed his original chest plate which seemed superfluous compared to the armor before him.

With Tebb's help, he donned the armor, each Plate locking into place with satisfying clicks. The _cetar'bur_ on each foot. _Tandun'bur_ and _bes'lovik_ attached to the shin and knee respectfully. Then the _ven'cabur_ slid into place over the important bits of his groin.

The armor-weave vest, slid on like a glove, the straps adjusting to his size. Once again the plates covering his abs ( _shar'tas_ ) pectorals ( _hal'cabur_ ) collar ( _ghet'bur_ ) back ( _nor'cabur_ ) and shoulders ( _bes'marbur_ ) attached with ease. Then it was time for the _kom'rk_. The pair of armored gauntlets hugged his forearms securely. Jarek made a point of integrating the components that he and Myler made so as to continue to honor his father. Tebb appeared to respect and admire that.

Jarek took the last piece of equipment from the Tebb's hands. The _Buc'ey_. The helmet had a smooth dome with a distinctive T shaped visor. In its polarized surface, Jarek could see the weight of ages. It harkened back to a more brutal time in his people's history. He had to wonder how many beings had looked upon the same shape with fear and trepidation...many for the last time.

The moment he slid the helmet on, the heads-up display kicked on and data streamed across his vision. Jarek blinked cycling through the visors light filters and other settings. Once his vision cleared, he turned to a tall mirror and examined his new outfit. He smiled though he couldn't see it through the helmet. The armor was a truly impressive work of craftsmanship. Not only was it a credit to Tebb's passion as a fabricator and stitcher but it also revealed that the Mandalorian people were more than just hunters and warriors they were artists and creators of beautiful things.

 _"Kandosii_!" Jarek declared. He removed the helmet and clipped it to his belt. He reached out and clasped forearms with the young man. "Thank you Tebb. I've never owned anything this amazing before."

"Well it's yours," he declared smiling happily, "No Mandalorian should be without his armor." He nodded towards his old chest piece which had integrated seamlessly with the rest of the _beskar'gam_. "I think you'll find this affords a bit more protection then what you were wearing."

Jarek looked at the armor and although it held sentimental value because he'd forged it with his father, it was of a very rough make. It had served its purpose out in the wild. In the _Verd'Goten_ and even the wider world, he'd need every advantage he could get.

Back outside he shook Tebb's hand again, "Thank you _ner-vode_." Jarek had never called anyone of the clan 'my brother' before but at that moment he could help but feel that connection with Tebb. Across the weight of years, the young man had looked past Jarek's status, honored his debt of gratitude, and treated him as an equal. No...As a brother. Jarek would not soon forget it.

"You're welcome," Tebb responded with a bright smile, "I won't keep you any longer." At Jarek's lost expression he answered his unasked question. Gesturing up a path he said, "If you need to find the ceremony it's up near the chief's _morut_ on the hill. You can't miss it. It's the large lodge with the angry mob outside."

At the words 'angry-mob' Jarek thought back to what the Chief had said to him at the gate. "Teersa mentioned there were envoys from the Empire here."

"Yes," Tebb acknowledged with a wry smile, "that's what the mobs angry about. Not since the clan was exiled by the Duchess has any _aruetii_ have set foot in _Kart'a'Buir_. I'd expect to see some raw fruit flying. Maybe rocks. Hopefully no blasters bolts though." He gave him an impish smile, "In any case be ready to duck."

Jarek laughed and nodded before heading in the indicated direction. As he walked he couldn't help but muse on his people's history. Contrary to what other's believed, he and Myler weren't as cut off from the rest of Kalevala and the galaxy at large. Myler had maintained at no small expense a holonet link that allowed them to keep track of current events.

He recalled from his lessons that Mandalorians played huge roles in shaping galactic history from fighting the republic alongside Sith, to fighting Sith alongside the republic, to setting out on their own crusades to conquers great swaths of the galaxy.

Mandalore had a bloody history, but by the time of the Clone Wars, the pacifist and reformist New Mandalorian political faction controlled Mandalore's government, led by Duchess Satine Kryze. This led to internal conflict with other Mandalorian groups like Death Watch, who wanted to maintain the warrior ways of their Mandalorian heritage. An ideology that Clan Orion supported.

This lead to the Mandalorian civil war that exiled clan Orion to Concordia, later to Kalevala, and their later involvement in the Clone Wars. Though he and Myler had remained apart from the war, Jarek wondered if his father had been involved in the Mandalorian civil war, since it was before he was even born, and that was what lead to his exile.

Then two cycles ago the Duchess was slain and Mandalore fell into chaos. Fortunately aside from the odd scuffle, Kalevala had avoided the worse of the struggle. Now the Republic had been supplanted by the Empire and the Empire now sought the cooperation of the clans. It was an Interesting time he lived in.

Enroute to the Chief's _morut_ , haven, Jarek passed more Mandalorians enjoying the festivities; three women stood atop a makeshift stage singing a raucous tune that had many whistling, stomping, and clapping in time. Further down the road, he saw a man standing atop a roof, crowing to the setting sun even as a woman below was yelling at him through fits of laughter the get down before he fell.

He had just crossed a narrow footbridge when Jarek heard a voice he recognized call out for him. He turned to see Karst's weathered figure leaning against a post and smiled. "Karst? Is that you?"

"Careful," the merchant whispered making padding gesture with his hand, "Pretend we never met. I was never supposed the trade with outcasts in the wilds, remember?"

"How could I forget," Jarek scoffed and added in a sarcastic tone, "How generous of you to talk to me now.

Karst rolled his eyes. "Don't be like that. You know I'll be rooting for you during the _Verd'Goten_." He chuckled darkly, "Can't wait to see the looks on everyone's faces when _you_ pass."

"Thank you." Jarek was appreciative of the moral support. Gesturing to the dwelling around them he said, "So... _Kart'a'Buir_. I thought you preferred the wilds?

Karst shrugged and replied in a matter-of-fact tone, "Well a man can't drink alone all the time. Plus I admit I get lonely every once in a while." He made an over exaggerated sigh of exasperation that made Jarek laugh. "There...I admitted it. Don't think less of me."

"Once again," Jarek replied in mock reassurance, "your secrets safe with me."

"Don't go soft on me now boy," Karst retorted with a wink and they both laughed."

Sensing the conversation had run its course Jarek started on his way, "Until next time Karst."

"Next time you'll be _mando'ade_ ," the merchant replied with a wave and disappeared into the festival.

Moments later, and after mounting a flight of stairs, Jarek came upon a dense crowd gathered before the largest structure of the settlement. A dais sat before the assembly where a half dozen figures stood. Jarek wormed his way through the restless group until he was close enough to see the stage. Whispers of dissent and anger issued amongst the spectators. Now that he was closer he saw Chief Teersa as well as another female warrior that shared similar feature as the older woman, even armor style. Her daughter, Jarek had to assume and successor to the mantle of Clan Chief.

Also on the stage, Jarek saw a man in full Mandalorian battle armor painted Black and grey over a tan body suit. He bore the House insignia of Ordo; an orb enveloped by a pair of pillars. He had a pair of blasters holstered on each thigh and like Jarek, his helmet was clipped to his belt. He was broad shouldered with mutton chops that complemented his short Mohawk. Next to him stood a shorter thinner man wearing a clean well pressed grey officer's uniform with a cap. He must've been the Imperial envoy Teersa mentioned. Most of the negative comments he'd overheard in the crowd seemed to be directed at him.

Just then the younger woman stepped forward and raised a hand to quiet the crowd and gain their attention. "In a moment we will bless the _Verd'goten_." She gestured to the Imperial officer who stood a little straighter. "But first we have guests who wish to speak."

The voices of discontent started to rise before the man even spoke which prompted Teersa to step forward. "We of clan Orion have fought the Republic, the Jedi, and even one another," Her voice though raspy with age echoed around the assembly with resonance. She raised a finger to indicate a point, "but we have yet to clash with this new Empire. The other clans have agreed to parlay with these men. So should we."

The Imperial delegate, such as he was, stepped forward. He looked nervous but kept his posture straight. He cleared his throat and began to speak. "Gratitude for being allowed here today." His voice lacked the resonance and authority of the chief's but it carried at least, "The Empire has crushed the corrupt republic your people of the Watch fought against." His accent was that of an upper-class gentry. He must've been a core worlder or at the least educated in the core. It came across as a tad haughty but not arrogant. Arrogance was a mistake he could not afford to make in front of a crowd of armed and armored Mandalorians. "We stand here only to ask you allow yourselves to open commerce with the Empire and in return-" The envoy didn't get a chance to finish. He was cut off by a hail of fruit as the crowd's resentment boiled over once again. The big man in Mandalorian armor stepped forward taking a couple of the tossed fruits to the chest.

"Hey! Hey, _Udesii_ , _Aliit Orion,_ " he yelled making a placating gesture even as he ducked one last piece of food. " _Aliit_ Orion please hold your fruit." Seeing one of their own had taken the stage, the crowd's mood cooled to a low simmer. "Now I'm Avin Solus," he declared pounded a fist to his chest in pride, "of clan Awand under House Ordo. I'm not of the Empire." He gestured out into the crowd. "I'm of the _Mando'ade_ like you so I'll speak plainly. The Duchess and by extension the Republic were a bunch of corrupt _sha'buir_." There were nods and grunts of agreement. "The Republic allowed cowards like Duchess Satine to rob our people of their heritage. Forcing us to fight one another for the right to live as our ancestors did. As warriors." The more he spoke the calmer the crowd became. Those that had yet to toss food were eating instead at least. "Now the Duchess and the Republic who supported her have been dead almost a full two cycles now. Replaced by the Empire. Ruled by the Emperor whom this man represents." He gestured to the disheveled officer who was busy straightening his mussed uniform. "This envoy brings a message of cooperation that promises our people a place in the new order. Listen. Agree, don't agree, whatever. But at least listen." The crowd nodded again in agreement and Avin stepped aside to allow the Officer to speak. Teersa and her daughter were also stepping back. Jarek made his way through the crowd only to nearly collide with the large Mandalorian named Avin. "Well," he said taking the measure of the younger man, "aren't you a tad small to be wearing _Beskar_?"

Jarek had to crane his neck to be able to look the man in the eye. "Compared to you?" he retorted, "I doubt you'll find many to measure up against. Careful it's hard to get stretch marks out of iron."

Avin boomed with laughter that made a few nearby spectators jump. "Some fire in you. _Kandosii_!" he rapped a knuckle on Jarek's chest plate. "You'll fill out that armor well."

Jarek smiled liking the man casual attitude. He jerked his head back towards the stage where the envoy was going on about the benefits of joining the Empire. "I thought your friend was about to go down in a hail of fruit," he said suppressing a snicker, "You really managed to calm the crowd down."

"Thanks. House Visla and its clans are still sore at the Republic for the years of repression," he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Many clans don't see the Empire much differently."

"They do wear the same uniform," Jarek pointed out. It was true. The Imperial Officer uniform was the same style worn by the Republic officer uniform from the color all the way down to the boots and belt buckle."

"Yeah," Avin conceded with a nod, "Different flag though." This time Jarek conceded the point with a nodded. "I admit, Ordo still doesn't trust them either but rumor has it the Protectors of Concord Dawn are leaning their way." He didn't seem to like the idea of any Mandalorians supporting the new regime. "The Night Owls on Mandalore are still resisting though," he added with the hint of pride.

"The clans of the Protectors and Night Owls aren't the clans of Visla, Avin," Jarek stated. Inner house/clan politics often saw rivals making deals with enemies.

"Ha. True," Avin shrugged nonchalantly, "As I said your chiefs can choose to listen or not. I was paid to make instructions. The Empire just wants to make sure the Mandalorians will stay in Mandalorian Space and side with the Empire in a pinch. Possibly even open an Imperial Academy in the near future. They've already established an interim government on Mandalore under Gar Saxon."

"Saxon?" Jarek questioned knowing the name well, "The mando who helped overthrow the Duchess?" Clan Saxon was sister clan to Orion under House Visla. From what Myler had said it was not a happy relationship. Tense was the word he used.

"The very same," Avin confirmed with a sharp nod his tone suggesting he didn't care for Saxon, "He's leading the 'pro-Imperial' movement. Got himself a nice Viceroy-ship for his trouble."

Jarek shrugged not really caring for inner-clan/house politics. "If there's one thing I've learned," he said simply, "it's that the clans will do what's best for the clans.

"Yep." Avin agreed, "We're a practical bunch. Stubborn as a Rancor with a toothache, but practical." Jarek noticed the man eyeballing his armor. He could see he was noting the lack of clan or house insignia. "Say I notice you don't bare Clan Orion nor House Visla's mark. Are you-?"

Jarek finished his sentence, "-the son of an outcast. A _Dar'Manda_."

Avin seemed to wince at the name but didn't seem to care for its application. "I heard clan Visla outcasts the children of _Dar'Manda_." He shook his head somberly, "Seems excessively cruel to me." He cleared his throat obviously not trying to insult him by showing pity. Jarek appreciated the gesture seeing as he neither wanted nor accepted any pity. "But even as an outcast you seem to know plenty about the wider universe especially our customs," his tone was respectful and he nodded towards him, "And you wear our armor."

"My father's dream was for me to join the clan," Jarek explained, "He prepared me for the _Verd'goten_ sense I was seven cycles old."

"Seven?!" he exclaimed in surprise, "Color me impressed." He pounded a fist onto Jarek's chest which nearly knocked him back a step. "You're _Mando'karla_ if anything," he declared as if daring someone to challenge his opinion. "I've no doubt you'll pass the rite. Look me up afterward. The first rounds on me. If I don't see you, the next time you're in Velmoth Port ask for Avin Solus."

Jarek returned the warriors smile and clasped forearms with him. "I will." A horn sounded and the crowd went silent. Jarek glanced around and noticed the chief had left. At the same time, clansmen began heading down a path towards another assembly area. "I guess I should get to the blessing. _Vor'e bal Ret'urcye mhi_."

"To you as well," he replied.

Jarek followed the path down into the assembly area which was set in a massive natural amphitheater. At its head standing atop a stage were Teersa and her daughter. Jarek caught her eye and she gestured for him to join a group of two dozen youths standing just off stage. Hostile gazes turn on him as he approached. Despite wearing a new set of armor nothing covered up the fact that he was still an outcast. Amongst them was a male youth with tousled blond hair, whose blue eyes could've cut glass. It had been many cycles but he would never forget Gaegan as the child who'd scarred him with the rock.

While a majority of the youths looked on him with distaste some only gave him a curious glance. One, a young woman about his age with bronze skin and raven black hair, actually smiled and nodded in greeting.

Despite the intervening years, Jarek didn't need any help in remembering her as the young girl from the berry patch. Jilo was her name. The years had been kind to her. She was no longer a small girl, but a young woman blossoming into womanhood. Not caring about the rest of the group Jarek took his place at the front next to Jilo. None of the youths commented lest they incur the wrath of the Chief who stood but mere feet away.

Teersa waved a hand and on cue, two dozen men and women in full _beskar'gam_ , minus weapons, stepped forward and formed two concentric circles before the stage. Jarek recognized the formation and knew with no small amount of excitement what he was about to witness.

Somewhere within or beyond the crown, a pair of musicians began to pound a massive lambeg drum to set the tempo. The deep base of the impact echoed through the air bringing the entire settlement to silence it seemed. Several beats into the rhythm the warriors in the circle began slamming their fists upon their chests in sync with one another. The sound of so much metal crashing on metal resounded like a thunderclap.

Jarek's excitement doubled. He was about to watch the _Da Werda Verda._ Warriors of the Shadow. He'd learned of it from Myler and had even been taught the steps, but his father had assured him that a pair of warriors conducting the pre-battle chant was nothing compared to a small army.

Myler had been right.

Suddenly, drums picked up to a rapid-fire tempo that sent Jarek's heart-rate skyrocketing. Simultaneously and as one the warriors began chanting slamming their fists in time with each syllable.

 _Taung sa rang broka Jetiise ka'rta._

The moment the second verse began the tempo increased and the warriors switched positions to where they were slamming their fists into the armor of the warrior next to them. With each successive verse, the warriors pivoted on their right foot and hit the armor of the warrior before them. If there was no warrior they hit themselves on the chest.

 _Dha Werda Verda a'den tratu,_

 _Coruscanta kandosii adu._

 _Duum motir ca'tra nau tracinya._

 _Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a._

Other Mandalorians within the crowd were getting into the chant, some even pounding on their own armor. The energy was contagious and soon it sounded like the entire settlement was filled with the rage of the shadow warriors. Jarek couldn't help but get swept up in the spirit but remained still taking his cue from Teersa who remained motionless. Her body was calm and unmoving but Jarek could see the fire and pride in her eyes.

 _Kom'rk tsad droten troch nyn ures adenn._

 _Dha Werda Verda a'den tratu,_

 _Coruscanta kandosii adu._

 _Duum motir ca'tra nau tracinya._

 _Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a._

As the last verse came to an end the entire crowd stomped a foot raised a clenched fist into the air shouting in one clamorous voice, " _OYA_!" In that instant, Jarek felt something stir in his chest. His heart yearning to be a part of the group, to be able to chant along with the rest of the clan warriors.

"Ancestors hear our prayer," Teersa yelled out to the crowd of raised fists, and Jarek noticed all of their heads were bowed. The youth's heads were also lowered and he hastily followed suit. "See these _verd'ika_ ," she continued to pray, "Let your wisdom of the ages lead and guide them and let your presence protect them through the _Verd'goten_. Welcome them into our _Aliit_. Witness them become a part of the _Mando'ade_."


	6. Chapter 6 Rite of Passage

Disclaimer: I do not own star wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

 **Episode 1: Mandalorian Outcast**

 **Chapter 6: Rite of Passage**

 **Planet Kalevala: Mandalorian Space:**

Like water from a tap, it was over. The crowd lowered their fists and dispersed as if nothing had happened. Likewise, Teersa dismissed the young hunters to the lodge they would stay in until the next morning. Jarek was about to follow the crowd but hesitated. Spurred by the confidence the chant had filled him with he made to intercept Teersa. Before he could reach her, her daughter intercepted him.

Ignoring her Jarek made eye-contact with Teersa. "Chief Teersa might I have a word?"

"Of course," she said waving the woman aside. She hesitated and Teersa gave and insisting gesture, "Jezza its fine you can go." the woman growled under her breath but bowed respectfully and left. Teersa stepped forward. "How are you? I can imagine you might be a bit overwhelmed given your circumstances."

Jarek was going to ask about the rite, but something about her words set his blood boiling. "My "circumstances" are why I'm here to win the _Verd'goten_ ," he snapped without thinking or any tact, "Not standing around exchanging pleasantries and muttering Orion blessings and prayers." His response lacked the calm respect he should offer one of such imposing rank and he half expected the clan chief to respond in kind. However, she maintained a cool demeanor. If anything a bit of sadness crept into her eyes.

"Of course," she sighed, "It pains me to hear that your years of isolation from the clan have spoiled what is to our people a ritual of great beauty."

"Maybe isolation has given me a clearer view," Jarek hissed, "A concern for results. Not rituals."

"Whatever your views I will accept it," Teersa stated her tone taking on a slight edge. He was dangerously close to insulting her beliefs and the look she gave him was a clear warning he needed to bring his anger to heel. Not lacking good sense Jarek did just that and inclined his head in apology. Teersa accepted it before asking, "You have questions?"

"It surprises me that _Dar'Manda_ are allowed in the rite," he stated hedging around to his true question, "I've not known the _Mando'ade_ to be so hospitable."

Teersa acknowledges the point with a nod before explaining, "Different clans and houses have different interpretations, but clan Orion's law has always been that any child outcast has this right, as a means to rejoin the clan." She gestured toward his person, "So far as I can recall you're the first to exercise this right in my lifetime though there were others before in other clans."

"I'm not surprised," he scoffed, "I doubt many _dar'manda ad'ika_ survive very long in the wilds to come of age."

Teersa gave him a halfhearted smile and arched an eyebrow. "I think, rather, it's because _dar'manda_ children are so rare. Those who are declared no longer Mandalorian as adults rarely remain close to the clans and move on and raise their children elsewhere." That made sense to Jarek. In all his years he'd never seen another outcast child and it was understandable that after being outcaste any being would rather leave and make a better life elsewhere, forsaking their culture in the process. Noting his wandering thoughts Teersa added a subject that he hadn't realized. "For many crimes committed against their fellow _mando'ade_ a being would be executed. It may be hard for you to accept, Jarek...but the practice of shunning is, relatively speaking, humane."

Was it? Jarek thought mercilessly. He wanted to see her try it out for fifteen years. See how humane it was to subside off what they could hunt and gather on their own without the support of the clan.

Teersa must've been able to read his mind because her next words brought about a bit of a revelation. "It may be a difficult life, but at least they have the choice to atone and for some...to return."

The thought surprised him and he felt a bit ashamed for having lost his temper. Having it explained made him realize that becoming an outcast wasn't as much a curse as he'd thought. Depending on the mindset of the individual it could be an opportunity. Without the support of the clan had he not learned to be entirely self-sufficient? Had he not developed a quiet self-confidence? Anything less than total conviction would cause him to doubt his abilities and possibly cost him his life. Recalling Myler's final lesson he realized being an outcast had in many ways made him stronger than the rest of the clan. He didn't need the clan to survive, but they would indeed need his strength to evolve and grow stronger. With that thought in mind Jarek really only had one last question.

"Why was I made _Dar'Manda_ , Teersa?" he asked softly and looked up at her pleadingly, "What crime could I have committed, even before I was born?"

Teersa's sigh and the slow shake of her head told him he wouldn't get the answer he sought, "Jarek this is not a question I can answer."

"Why not?" Jarek asked feeling the frustration creeping back into his tone, "Who was my mother Teersa!?"

"I don't know Jarek!" she hissed in a low tone but the words struck home like a ram.

"What?" he asked, unsure what to make of her response.

Teersa sighed and placed a consoling hand upon his shoulder. "You were still a newborn when you came to our clan. We don't know where you came from, only that your presence be kept a secret, so we allowed Myler to raise you in the wilds."

This new information swirled in his head. "So you made me an Outcast!?" he asked a little surprised.

"In order to protect you, yes," she stated confidently. "We couldn't keep you in the village. Your sudden presence in the settlement would've raised too many questions." So their solution for protecting him was allowing an old warrior to raise him on his own on the very edge of civilization?

"But...where did I come from?" he asked, desperate for just a few more answers to many questions still weighing on his mind.

Teersa glanced nervously to the side. She was breaking clan law just by speaking to him and was understandably nervous. "I don't know," she sighed apologetically.

A thought occurred to Jarek. If they'd been told to keep him safe then someone must have delivered him with the message. "Who brought me here?" he asked.

"A Mandalorian warrior," she explained almost glad to give him the information, "Who neither gave his name nor showed his face." Jarek's heart sank. "His battle-scarred armor bore no insignia and after passing on his instructions, he left."

Jarek sighed feeling utterly defeated. He had come so far for answers, and without even competing in the _Verd'Goten_ he had gotten them. Unfortunately. "So that's it then," he murmured, "After everything, I went through, I only have more questions." Who was the warrior who'd delivered him? His father? Why would his mother allow him to be sent away? Why had she never sought him out? Was she dead? "All my training and I've failed even before the trial."

"That's not true." Teersa gripped him by both shoulders and shook slightly to jar him back to the present. "Your parents may have abandoned you, but your father raised you!" Jarek blinked in surprise at her words which seemed filled with hints of anger. "Myler poured his heart and soul into you so that one day you'd be a part of the clan." She stared heavily at him, "Do not disappoint him." she placed a finger on his chest. "Do not disappoint yourself. Whether you win the _Verd'goten_ or not you have a place here." she gestures to the village and the life that echoed throughout it. "To start a new life."

A new life?

Jarek looked at her and couldn't help but get caught up in her conviction and enthusiasm. The clan chief wanted him to be a part of the clan. Tebb and Karst wanted him to be a part of the clan. Avin Solus wanted him to be a part of the _Mando'ade_. His father and Teersa all of them wanted him in the clan. At that moment he knew he could have a life within the clan. He would honor his father's wishes.

Taking a step back Jarek bowed respectfully to the clan chief-his clan chief. "Thank you, Teersa, for...helping me see the way."

Teersa smiled and returned the bow. When they stood Teersa spoke. "The hunters must retire to the lodge for the night. However, I want to wish you luck tomorrow."

Jarek nodded his thanks once more and headed towards the lodge she'd indicated. It resembled the rest of the buildings but stood apart from them. Out front stood a warrior in full armor and clutching a blaster. As he approached the guard made no indication he was aware of his presence. Used to the disdain, Jarek pushed open the door and started to enter.

"Motherless cur," he heard the guard murmur causing him to stop in his tracks.

"What did you say?" Jarek growled without even turning. Despite having already been accepted by the clan chief, Jarek was still viewed as an outcast and that observation gulled him.

"Find your bed and get some sleep, _Dar'Manda_ ," the guard hissed in a sharp tone, "Dream of winning the _Verd'goten_. That's as close as you're going to get."

Despite the venom, in the warrior's words Jarek didn't rise to the bait. He may have not found his answers, but he was still determined to win the _Verd'goten_ no matter what anyone said. If he was to join the clan then he would prove he was worth having. He turned to the guard. "Oh is this the hunter's lodge," he replied condescendingly, "With you guarding it I thought it was the freshers."

The guard rounded on him and started to yell, " _Di'kutla, sha'buir_! You're an insult to everything-" but Jarek had already slammed the door shut in his face. He smiled as the sound of his curses muffled through the door filled him with satisfaction.

Inside the lodge was a single room warmed by a blazing fire in the center. Along each wall were several sets of bunks, some occupied by other participants. The rest milled about.

The moment he entered he felt dozens of eyes turn towards him. He only recognized a couple. One pair being those belonging to Gaegen, the tousled blonde head youth, and the other to Jilo.

"Well look what crawled in from the wild," Gaegen called out from the edge of the fire pit. "The motherless outcast." He ran a finger across his eyebrow. "I see you've still got that scar from the rock I threw at you. Now that is a fond memory."

Before Jarek could retort, Jilo stepped forward and shoved his shoulder. "You can be a real _skanah_ , Gaegan," she hissed glaring at him, "Cut it out." She didn't wait for a response, before moving to sit on her bunk. Geagen refused to keep silent for long.

"Where is your bite, _Dar'Manda_?" he continued to taunt, "Or do you need my permission to speak in the presence of true _mando'ade_." Jarek took a deep breath to keep his temper in check before marching up to the larger boy. To Gaegen's credit, he didn't flinch at his approach. He did wave a dismissive hand at his armor. "Awe you even try to dress as a Mandalorian," he scoffed, "Not that it fools anyone," Jarek noted that Gaegen's armor was of much higher quality than his, adorned with many designs and decals. Even if Jarek wore the armor of Mandalore the First, he doubted Gaegen would have treated him any different.

"So this is how it's going to be with you?" he snapped making sure to keep his eyes locked firmly onto Gaegen's. He'd show no fear.

Gaegan glared back sweeping his arms out at the occupants of the lodge. "This is how it's going to be with everyone, _Dar'Manda_." He jabbed a finger at him. "You belong in the wilds, not at _Kart'a'Buir_. And definitely not in the _Verd'Goten_ ," he spat.

That was when Jarek realized something about Gaegen. He was bully, a predator, and as long as he perceived Jarek as weak he'd always go for the throat and tear him down. Gaegen had made a mistake in assuming Jarek was easy prey. "You can sense it can't you?" he retorted smoothly, "You already know you're going to fail."

Gaegen hooted with laughter as did the sycophants standing behind him. "I've trained my whole life for this!" he declared proudly, slamming a fist onto his chest plate, "I'm not afraid of you-I'm not scared of anything!"

Jarek took an aggressive step forward taking the boy by surprise. "Confidence is quiet," he whispered almost nose to nose with the bully, "You're not."

Gaegen took a step back and quickly composed himself. "You know I often think of the day I gave you that scar," he taunted once more, "It's a tale to tell." He was trying to reassert his dominance by reminding the other's how he'd drawn his blood. In a pack, if the alpha male bled it was viewed as a sign of weakness. Jarek wasn't weak and he also wasn't stupid enough to rise to the bait.

"Really?" he mocked with a cynical smile, "'cause I laugh remembering that look on your face when I knocked that rock right out of your hand." Gaegen seemed to shrink a bit and a flush colored his cheeks. "Bet you forget to mention that when _you_ tell the story." From the curious glances from the others, Jarek was accurate in his assumption. Of course who, in their right mind, would admit being embarrassed by a lowly outcast?

The Bully refused to back down and speared a finger at him stating, "I branded you that day, _dar'manda_!"

Jarek held up his hands to show everyone just how little the scar had impacted him. He smirked at the boy. "All you did was make me stronger." He rapped a knuckle against his armored chest. "Steel sharpens steel." with that same hand he pointed directly at Gaegen. "Just wait. I'll prove that tomorrow."

Gaegen laughed but it lacked the confidence he'd held earlier. "This is boring!" he stated, "I'm going to be well rested for the trials." He jerked his head in Jarek's direction and attempted one last bit of bravado. "You'll be the one surprised tomorrow, _Dar'Manda_. Not me!"

"Oh, are you going to shut your mouth?" Jarek snapped back, " _That_ would be a surprise."

Much to Gaegen's embarrassment and Jarek's satisfaction, a number of the nearby youths laughed. Not wanting to give the bully a chance to get the last word in, Jarek turned and headed towards the nearest vacant bunk. The bed just happened to neighbor Jilo who sat up and smiled at him.

"Nice job handling Gaegan," she said laughter in her voice, "That should keep him quiet...at least until morning anyway."

"That'd be a relief," he replied. He noticed she'd removed her armor revealing the bodysuit that clung to her strong feminine curves. He blushed slightly and averted his eyes before removing his own armor and sat down. When he saw that she was still looking at him he fished for an introduction. "I'm Jarek," he greeted.

"Oh I know who you are," she replied with a smirk. Did she indeed remember him from the Berry patch? "You're the competition," his heart sank a little but heard the good-natured ribbing in her tone, "The others? They'll finish the _Verd'goten_ , most of them." She leaned in a little as she spoke, "But win it? That comes down to you, Gaegan, and me...Vilo."

Jarek returned her smirk. "Nice to meet you, Vilo," he greeted, "And your right. I am going to win."

"Never celebrate victory before it's earned, boy," she retorted with that same confident smirk, "My mother taught me that." She turned and reclined back onto her bunk and folded both hands behind her head. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to get some sleep. I plan on being well rested when I run you into the ground tomorrow." She gave him a wink before closing her eyes. "I suggest you do the same. When I beat you, it's going to be at your best."

Jarek resisted the snort of laughter before laying back on his own bed. "Thanks for the pep talk, Jilo."

"Anytime Jarek."

Later in the night, Jarek found himself tossing and turning unable to fall asleep. Every time he did he found himself jumping back to alertness at any little sound. He was nervous about the next day. Not scared but eager to get it done.

"So your first day in _Kart'a'Buir_." at the sound of Jilo's voice he jumped but calmed when she rolled over and looked at him. It was obvious sleep alluded her as well. "What did you think?" Before he replied she noticed how he couldn't manage to get comfortable on the bed. "You've never slept in a lodge before," she stated and he nodded sitting up, "Not very private."

"Comforts and distractions," he replied honestly, "That's what I think."

"Not all comforts are bad," she replied in a soft tone sitting up, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders.

"Comforts are a weakness," he stated bluntly recalling the lack of amenities of his and Myler's home. Soft mattresses and privacy were two of many things he'd grown up without.

"You sound like my mother," she teased, "You can always go back to living in the wilds if you have too." Her good-natured humor caught him off guard and he had to cover his mouth to prevent a laugh from rolling out.

He looked over at the young woman, taking in her tanned skin and silky black hair. He stared into her soft brown eyes as he replied, "I'll admit it does have…certain charms."

The fire had died down but not enough to hide the blush that crept across the young girl's cheeks. "It's homey enough," she stated gesturing to the well-insulated walls, "Once you get accepted, you'll have all these comforts."

Jarek sighed and rested both arms on his knees. "That's the problem," he said jerking his head at Gaegen's snoring from across the fire. "I'm not sure I'll ever be truly accepted."

Much to his surprise, Jilo stood and sat down next to him on his bed. She took his hand in hers and locked gazes with him. "I think you'll find a place here," she whispered, "I really do." Jarek was so captivated by her soft words and deep brown eyes he acted without a second thought.

The kiss was feather light but it sent chills running up and down his arms and his heart to rapidly pound in his chest. He pulled away and started to apologize but she silenced him with a finger on his lips. Her smile combined with her blushing cheeks was enough to fill him with relief.

"Jarek?" she whispered.

"Yeah."

She stroked his hand with her thumb. "I do remember you," she murmured, "From the berry patch." She looked up at him and smiled earnestly, "I'm glad you're here."

He returned her smiled before kissing her again whispering, "Thank you."

They lingered on the kiss for several minutes embracing one another before a snort and grumble from another sleeping youth reminded them of where they were. They separated with great reluctance, Jilo returning to her own bed. He remained on his own. "G'night," she whispered and he replied in kind. He finally fell asleep with her warm beautiful smile the last thing he saw.

A new life to be sure.

The next morning was a blur of motion. One moment Jarek was dreaming and the next he was jarred awake by the sharp orders of the clan's warriors. He exchanged nervous smiles with Jilo as they donned their armor and collected their weapons. The two dozen youths hurried out into the cool night air where they linked up with a small group of Mandalorian hunters and warriors. After a few brief instructions, they lead them out of the village and headed east toward the valley wall.

Jarek stayed close to Jilo, occasionally exchanging knowing smiles and eager glances.

Upon reaching a nearly vertical cliff face their escort ordered them to the top. Looking up, seeing the craggy face disappear into haze above, Jarek was reminded of how much he disliked heights. Noticing his hesitation, Gaegen made a show of escorting him towards the wall as if he were some respected dignitary, bowing in supplication. His sycophants guffawed, but Jarek noticed none of them seemed eager to make the ascent either. Without a second thought, he launched himself at the wall and propelled himself upward. His eagerness took them by surprise and they scrambled to catch up.

Jarek had free climbed with Myler on several occasions. There were times, as outcasts, they weren't able to use the trails the Clan Hunter's used and they had to forge their own path. By touch alone he knew where the best hand and foot holds were. He knew how to distribute his weight so as not to wear out his arms, using his more powerful leg muscles to push himself upward. He kept up with Jilo exchanging the looks and words of encouragement. At one point Gaegan zipped up the rock face between them nearly dislodging Jarek in the process. For a brief moment he had an image of falling into the depths of the cistern. The familiar rush of adrenalin and panic filled him and he had to take a moment to compose himself.

"Hurry up outcast!" snapped one of the warriors who kept pace with the group. The female Mandalorian, like the rest of the minders, were utilizing jetpacks to make the trip easier. Jarek had to squash his envy for such a device and refocused on the climb. Jilo, who had managed to pull ahead, glanced back at him a question on her face. Jarek nodded and resumed the climb.

By the time he reached the summit, Jarek's arms, legs, and shoulders were on fire. Even after all the training, he'd done the ascent had taken a toll. Glancing around he saw it had exacted a heavy cost on the other _verd'ika_ as well. Of the dozen youth's only Jilo, Gaegan, and himself were still standing. The rest sat hunched over taking deep gulping breathes clutching at cramped muscles. That was when Jarek noticed the air was thinner up there and almost none of them, having lived in the lowlands of the valley, were as acclimated to it as he was. He felt a new energy course through his limbs and stood eager to begin.

When the last of the youths rolled over the edge of the cliff gasping for breath, the warriors wearing the jet-packs landed all around them. They didn't say anything or make any remarks as to the groups general disheveled. They simply stood and waited.

Jarek took the opportunity to view his surroundings, but there wasn't much to see. They were so high up the cloud layer was obscuring everything outside of twenty feet. Jarek couldn't even see the surrounding mountains even though he knew they were there. Between the lack of sight and the silent warriors, it was very disconcerting.

Suddenly to his left he heard some rocks shift under a boot. He turned to see a figure materialize out of the fog. He was tall broad in the shoulders and he wore steel grey armor with a Jaing Bird of Prey blazing on his chest. A cloak with a similar sigil wrapped about his shoulders. The newcomer wore no helmet revealing a pale face void of any hair. A pair of piercing yellow eyes scanned the group. He carried himself with utter confidence and yet Jarek sensed a weariness about him as if he were a coiled snake always ready to strike.

The man stopped only a few feet before the group. By then the rest of the youths had all stood and composed themselves. For a moment the man stood and took them all in with a sweep of his gaze, taking the measure of each of them in turn.

Then he spoke.

"You will adhere to the _Resol'nare_. The core of what it means to be Mandalorian. A sacred law giving us direction and purpose. Education and armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language, our leader—all help us survive. We must educate our children as Mandalorians, obey the commands of Mandalore, speak Mando'a and defend our clans."

There was no hesitation in his voice. No hint of doubt. No shame. These were not mere words to him. They were his life.

He began pacing back in forth in front of the group, he steps slow and deliberate much like his tone. "Strength is Life," he said clenching his fist before him, "for only the strong have the right to rule. Honor," he slammed his fist onto his armored chest, "is life. For without honor, one might as well be dead." He relaxed his hand and waved it at the warriors manning the perimeter of the group, "Loyalty is life: For without one's clan, one has no purpose." His arm lowered to his side and he stopped pacing. "Death," his tone was solemn but not without pride, "is life. One should die as they have lived."

He pointed over their shoulders over the cliff face. "If this is not your path. I suggest you get off my mountain." No one moved. No one spoke. No one...gave any indication they wanted to be anywhere else. This was what they had striven for. This was what they had dreamed of. This was what Jarek wanted.

A small smile crossed the Mandalorian's face. "Then by standing here, you have accepted this oath, to complete your _Verd'gotan_ and become a part of the _Mando'ade_. Our ancestors fought proudly as warriors for generations against the Republic and the Jedi and whoever else threatened our way of life." He held his arms out as if to encompass and embrace them. "So I welcome you. I welcome you, sons and daughters of Clan Orion...I welcome you to the ranks of _Kyr'tsad_. I welcome you...to Death Watch."


End file.
